


The Return of Captain James Bond, Pirate

by 1MissMolly



Series: The Pirates of Skyfall [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 69,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1MissMolly/pseuds/1MissMolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Per numerous requests, the further adventures of James Bond and his sprite Q from the Pirates of Skyfall. Please read that story first, other wise this might get confusing. Regency Era with pirates and soldiers and Sherlock Holmes.</p><p>Lord Mycroft Holmes discovers his brother is alive and is trying to save England from her greatest threat. Not enjoying leg work, Mycroft turns to two people who would never help him, his youngest brother, Q and pirate James Bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Returning of Skyfall

She was diminutive in stature but no one in the court would call her demur. Especially, as she storms down the halls of Kensington Palace, her taffeta skirts rustled as she traveled down the ornate passages of the royal residence. Her bright blue eyes full of heat and determination, more formidable than the full cannon blast of a British Man of War. She passed the gold gilt doors into a private salon and waited till the doors were shut before she addressed the man.

“Well, tell me,” she snapped. Mycroft waited to see if she would sit, but when she didn’t he rocked lightly on the balls of his feet.

“It appears that I have underestimated the determination of my bother.” Mycroft raised his chin and stretch his neck. No other person in kingdom could make Mycroft feel inadequate like his mother. Lady Em glared at him.

“Elaborate.”

“I have reason to believe that Sherlock is alive.”

“Evidence.” Her eyes narrow and her lips thin into a tight frown.

“There have been several reports of an unusual individual involved in various enterprises that have secured the safety of England and her monarchs. An individual with unique powers of observation.”

“Yes, yes, Queen Charlotte found his revelations of members of court quite entertaining. Vacuous woman.” Lady Em finally sat down on the pale yellow settee. Mycroft sat across from her on a matching couch. “What else?”

“Else?”

“Yes, there has to more than just a rumor for you to pull me away from tea with Lady Nelson.”

Mycroft Holmes looked down at his knee and brushed an invisible crumb away. “Well, Mummy, I may have discovered Sherlock is not buried in the family crypt.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You discovered? Oh dear God, did you enter my son’s crypt without informing me in advance?”

“There was sufficient reason to check, but I didn’t wish to distress you until I was certain one way or another.”

“And?” Her shoulders square, her features set.

“Sherlock was limited with supplies prior to his allege suicide. The body in the crypt, although, bares a rough resemblance to Sherlock, he is two inches shorter and missing most of his teeth.”

Lady Mansfield Holmes sat up straighter and leaned slightly back. “Are you telling me that my son is alive and not buried with his father?”

“Yes Mummy.”

“Was Captain Watson involved in the subterfuge?” The fire in her eyes started burning brighter, her cheeks blushed in anger.

“Not that we can ascertain. I believe he is still in the dark as much as we were.” Mycroft reached for a pile of paper neatly tied with a royal blue satin ribbon. He handed the papers to his mother. “Sherlock has made no attempt to contact the Captain, and the Captain has made no attempt to leave the country.”

“I bloody wish he would. He is a right embarrassment, now.” Mycroft’s eyebrow shot up to his hair line.

“Mummy, please remember where you are.”

“I bloody well know where I am!” she snapped back at her eldest son. “Tell me, what are your plans to bring Sherlock home.” She pulled the end of the ribbon and started looking through the different sheets of paper, reading only a few lines of each.

“I have not finalized any plans at the moment. I am waiting for more information from my contacts.”

“Well, don’t botch this up as badly as you did with Quincy.” Mycroft’s face flushed. He was still deeply hurt by the rebuke about his youngest brother.

“Mummy, I may have . . .”

Her face snapped up to glare at him. “You may have driven my son, your brother away. How could have not known how Quincy felt about this pirate?”

“You were unaware of his feelings too.”

“I was not in Bridgetown when you rescued him from the British Navy. You should have known it was more than just an infatuation. I have now been two years without my two youngest sons.”

Mycroft leaned back into the settee. His mother’s anger about Sherlock and Quincy had strained their relations. He had watched for five years as Quincy willowed away to nothing before he ran away back to pirating. Refusing any connection to his family. Mycroft had sacrificed his life to secure his family, he given his entire life to England. His devotion to his family meant he had lost any chance of a private life. He had given up on the chances of having a family of his own. He passed the opportunity for love and children. He had surrendered his future to maintaining the Holmes family. Even after his father’s indiscretions and Sherlock’s follies, Mycroft had protected the Holmes. It twisted his insides to have to sit and listen to his mother accuse him failing his brothers.

“Mummy, that is unfair. I am not completely without feelings. I loss Sherlock and Quincy just as you have.” Mycroft stood and bowed abruptly. “I will leave you to your tea.”

“Oh sit back down. Lady Nelson can wait.” Lady Em barked. She set the papers down on the sit beside her. “I am sorry for being short. I know what you have done for us and will continue to do. But now we must work together to bring both Quincy and Sherlock back home.”

Mycroft nodded and retook his seat. “Yes ma’am, your suggestion?”

“Let’s let Captain Watson do some of the leg work.” She smiled.

Mycroft cocked his head to the side and his blue eyes started to twinkle. “Yes ma’am. Excellent idea.”   


	2. Heated Discussions

Heated Discussions

The Skyfall was sailing off the coast of Santos just south of Rio de Janeiro. It had been a good venture. So far the pirate ship had way laid four Spanish gold ships. The hold of the pirate ship was full. The crew eager to return to Jamaica.

“Why the hell is it so bloody hot here?” Q rolled off the chest of his naked lover, Captain James Bond.

“We’re close to the equator here,” the blonde answered.

“We’re close in the Caribbean but it doesn’t feel like an oven.”

“No, more trade winds there.” James reached over and stroked Q long sun bleached curls. The young man pulled himself from the bunk and walked across the cabin to the pitcher of water on the stand. James laid in the bunk admiring the long line and cat like movements of his younger lover.

Seven years earlier, Quincy Holmes was kidnapped by the pirates and became James Bond’s lover. They had a passionate romance. He did not want to return to England, but had sacrificed his happiness to protect James. Then after five years, James stole Q from the Ministry of War at Whitehall. Q was pale and thin the day James walked into his office. Now after two years of sailing with Bond and the Skyfall, his torso, although still paler than any other sailor on board, was tanned. James could watch as whip cord muscles moved under the blemish free skin. Below the waist band of Q’s breeches, the ivory white skin was still present. The plumb globes of his arse swaying slightly as his walked and renewing the older man’s interest. His cock twitching as he watched Q walk away.

Q poured a cup full of water over his head and let the water run down his neck and shoulders. Sliding down the valleys and contours of his chest and back till it dripped on the floor.

“You know, the Falklands are further south. It’s much cooler there. They say they look just like Scotland.” Q remarked turning back to look at James on the bunk.

“Only Scotland looks like Scotland.” James scoffed. “Any way, it’s winter there now. Too damn cold.”

“No it’s April. Oh wait that is going into the winter down there.” Q knitted his eye brow. “Well, it’s spring in Scotland and England. Let’s go.”

James sat up quickly. “You want to go back to England?”

Q smiled and walked of over to the bed and leaned against the wooden frame. “No, I don’t know why I said that. I just . . . well, I was thinking about when I was happy as a child. I loved spring. It was so beautiful at our country home. The land turning green and awakening after winter. I finally was allowed to go outside for walks.” Q’s eyes drifted away from James and focused on his memories. “I remember this one time, I snuck away from my nursemaid. I went to the trout stream and was throwing twigs and sticks into the water, you know, make believing they were boats racing down the stream. I was standing at the edge of the stream when the bank gave way and I fell in. God the water was so cold. Tore my brand new velvet breeches and got the matching jacket soaked.” A broad smile graced Q’s face. James laughed and laid back down on the bunk.

“So your childhood wasn’t so bleak.”

Q’s attention snapped back to the man on the bed. “I’ll have you know I got a sound beating for that little diversion. Nanny spanked me so hard I couldn’t sit down for the rest of the day.”

“Oh really. I know people who would enjoy such a spanking.”

Q cocked his head to the side. “Really?”

“Oh you naïve little boy. One time Alec and I were in St Augustine up in Florida. We were, well sharing the company of a young man that night.” Q nodded understanding, he had stopped blushing at the adventures of his pirate lover. “Well, half way through the night, he pulled a small flogger out from under his bed. He handed it to Alec and whispered something to him. I had no idea what was going on. I laid there on the bed and the man kneeled over me and the Alec started whipping his backside. Alec told me to be quite as he whipped the man for several minutes and I was trying to understand what was going on when the man moaned and came all over my chest. Then Alec grabbed his hair and pushed his face down in the mess and told him to lick it up. I got so hard watching the boy’s tongue lick up the cum off my chest. Then he went down on me as Alec buggered him.”

Q’s eyes were the size of saucers. James rarely talked about his liaisons with Alec, but Q knew about them. Q had watched a man almost be whipped to death. He couldn’t imagine someone volunteering for such abuse.

“He let Alec whip him?”

“It was a short flogger with very soft strips of leather. No metal tines, like the cat and nine tails we use here. It would hardly leave a mark, let alone cut skin.”

“But why?”

“Some people find it arousing. It does something to their brains that makes sex even that much better.”

Q’s laughter was almost a bark of surprise. His eyes bright and shining at James. “I can’t imagine sex getting any better with you. There’s no room after perfection.”

James smiled. “But I think we should keep trying to improve,” his voice dropped an octave and took on the seductive tone that made Q’s knees shake.

“Oh yes. Always.”

James leaned back and started stroking his cock watching the young man leaning on the support for the bed. “Maybe, it would be something to try.” Q’s eyes widened. “Yes I could just sit in the chair over there. I’ll let Alec tie your hands over your head, pull you up and attach you to the ceiling, so you have to stand on your toes. Have you all stretched out, naked and helpless.” Q swallowed hard, listening. “Then I’ll let Alec use that short flogger on you. Over and over again on you glorious white arse. Make it bright pink and sensitive. You'll be shivering and weak limbed. Your cock will be hard and leaking.”

“Then I’ll send him away.” James kneeled up and pulled Q’s shaking body to him and down onto the bunk. “I’ll walk around your body. Listen to you pant, lick the sweat off your cheeks. Bite your lips. Move slowly down your chest then suck you hard cock into my mouth.” Q moaned softly in James’ embrace. “You will be on your tip toes so you won’t have any leverage. You won’t be able to move. You will have to just take whatever I give you. I can suck you off as shallow or as deep as I want. I can do fast or slow or not at all and leave you wanting.” The young man was twisting now in James’ arms.

“Please what else will you do?” he begged. James could feel the hardening length against his thigh.

“Oh when I’m done on my knees, I’ll go behind you. Again, you won’t be able to defend yourself. You will be completely at my mercy. I will fuck you so hard. Just like I did after we attacked the Rata. You will be weeping from the pleasure. You will be rogered so bad you won’t be able to walk.” Q shuttered as James bit Q’s shoulder.

“Yes,” the young man’s voice was broken.

“Then I’ll cut you down. I’ll lay you carefully down on the bunk and lick every inch of you, slowly, cleaning off the cum.” Q’s eyes rolled back into his head.

“Please James, fuck me again, right now.” Q tried to roll off James chest, but the blonde held him still.

“Are we becoming needy, Q?” James laugh was dark and threating. “Should I call for Alec?”

“Either fuck me now or I will roll you over and bugger you.” Q voice dropped lower and his hands grabbed at James’ wrist. The bigger man laughed again and rolled Q over on to his back. Smoothly, James captured Q’s mouth and started a heated kiss.

******

Later they laid tangled in each other arms, slated. Letting gentle touches and light strokes of finger tips move against skin cooling from the heat of passion. Q’s head rested in its chosen spot, across James’ chest listening to the captain’s heartbeat.

“Q, do you want to see England again?”

“Maybe, I don’t know how I would feel about seeing England again after all that happened. I mean, we left not a month after Sherlock killed himself. I think Mycroft and I would be fine, but I don’t know about my mother.”

“She’s getting very old Q, and maybe you should see her before she is gone. You should try to reconcile before you can’t. You miss Sherlock and I know it hurts you.”

Q buried his face into James’ neck. James knew Q did that when he didn’t want to acknowledge something. For his twenty-six years, Q was still sometimes very much like a little boy. James wouldn’t change that for the world.


	3. A Summons to Whitehall

A Summons to Whitehall

Captain John H. Watson, formally of the Northumberland Fusiliers, was not a coward. Never was and never would be, but he couldn't cross that bridge ever again. He stood on the south side of the Thames and looked across the river towards Parliament, and the bridge. Westminster Bridge. The stone arches and the wide walkways. The fifty foot drop to the water below. The bridge Sherlock had jumped off of after he was discredited by Morarity.

They had both started running across the bridge to avoid the king's guards sent to arrest them. When John had reached the other side, Sherlock was not behind him. He looked over the bridge and Sherlock was standing on the stone rail looking down into the churning murky green water. He looked up at John and waved, then stepped off the rail. Down he fell into the cold spring flood of the Thames. His body never even surfacing until it washed ashore down river five miles.

John Watson never got to say good bye to his friend, to the man who had changed his life. Sherlock was more than just a friend, more than just an exuberant, deducing mad man, who could know your entire life history by your dress, your walk, the way you sipped your tea, he was the person who gave breath back to John's body. He brought John back from the loneliness of abandonment and uselessness. He gave John purpose and hope. And in that instance, as he stepped off those stones, he took it all away.

The physical pain John felt at the loss of his dearest and bravest friend, haunted the good doctor. He could not step on that walkway again. He could not cross the river to go to Whitehall where he had been summoned. He just couldn't.

Stepping back into the hack beside his fiancé, Mary, he told the driver to go down to London Bridge to cross. Mary looked at her fiancé but didn't say anything. She knew the pain he was going through, it had been two years, but recent events reported in the press, proved Sherlock had been correct about the attempt to corrupt the Prince Regent, and that the King, bless his sick old soul, had been manipulated.

If only they had listened to Sherlock, the debate in the House of Commons would have been different. The House of Lords would have seen that Pitt the Younger was trying to save the county and the monarchy, but they listened to the lies Moriarty spun from his web of deceit. John still grit his teeth every time he thought of the man and how that idiot Mycroft was taken in and used by the insane criminal. Sherlock, poor Sherlock, ended up paying the price for everyone else's mistakes and misunderstandings. Both Sherlock and John ended up paying.

Now, two years later, after Sherlock was exonerated, John was being called to Whitehall. He had promised himself if he saw that narrow nose git, Mycroft, he would punch him again in that said nose. He smiled at the prospect of another bloody nose and being thrown out again.

As the hack pulled in front of the marble facade, John turned to Mary. "Just stay here, I probably won't be very long."

"No fighting," she said with a smile. She knew it was useless to even say it.

"If I see . . ."

"John, it's been two years. Time to move on." He nodded to her, and leaned over to give her cheek a peck.

"To moving on together."

"Yes, my love."

Watson walked down the hallways of the government building, his boots echoing off the marble floor. He followed the clerk to the office of General Malcom Stafford. Not really knowing why he was requested to the office, Watson was under the impression it had to do with his pension from the Fusiliers.

The clerk stopped at a pair of darkly stained oak doors and walked in. The outer office was plain and Spartan in its decorations. One painting of a cavalry charge and two leather wing chairs. The secretary’s desk was clear of clutter and the man sitting behind it held the rank of lieutenant.

“Captain Watson here to see the general.” The clerk announced to the lieutenant. The seated man nodded and stood.

“This way sir, they are waiting for you.”

 _‘They? That was not good’_ Watson thought to himself was he walked through the next set of doors to the inner of office of General Stafford.

The general was much older than Watson was expecting. Closer to seventy than, sixty. His bristly muttonchops were pure white and his pale blue eye shined out under thick white brows. His hair was thin and his ruddy face showed years of being in the sunny climate of the sub-continent. The other officer in the room was a naval captain. He had a narrow face and reddish brown hair. His skin was tanned and his eyes keen.

The man sitting was a surprise to John Watson and not a happy one. Sir Phillip Anderson, the main opponent to Sherlock. He had actively worked to discredit Sherlock and William Pitt. Now that Pitt was Prime Minister again, Anderson was disgraced. Pitt had worked exhaustedly behind the scenes to prove Sherlock’s claims and his innocence.

When Watson saw Anderson, he grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He had promised his fiancé he wouldn’t punch Mycroft but he said nothing about Anderson.

“Oh, good, Watson. Right on time.” General Stafford said as he turned to see captain brought into the room. Watson was twenty minutes late. “We are in need of your services.”

“Sir, I am no longer connected with Northumberland Fusiliers. I was discharged years ago.”

“Yes, but once a soldier, always a soldier. Besides, your country needs you now.” The general sat down behind his desk. “This is Captain Mallory of the HMS Vauxhall. And I believe you already are acquainted with Sir Phillip.”

“Sir.” Watson nodded to Mallory but refuse to acknowledge Anderson.

“You have been requested to travel with Mallory here, to track down a man by the name of James Bond. He is the captain of the ship Skyfall.”

Watson remembered the names from Sherlock’s brother Quincy. The younger Holmes had run away at one point and took up with a band of pirates of all things. Bond had been the captain of the pirate ship and the two had become quite close. Watson never asked directly but it was apparent that their relationship had become physical. When Quincy disappeared about a month after Sherlock’s death, there had been hushed rumors that he had returned to his pirate captain.

“Why would I be called on to track down a pirate? That should be the responsibility of his majesty’s navy, not a retired soldier.”

“Quite true, quite true,” the old general huffed out. “But it has come to our attention that you have a connection to one of the sailors on the Skyfall. With you accompanying Mallory, we are hoping you will be able to convince Bond of our sincerity.”

“Your sincerity?” Watson glared at Anderson. “Why would Quincy Holmes trust the sincerity of Anderson and his brother Mycroft?”

Mallory stiffened in the chair he was sitting in. Stafford’s face reddened at Watson’s statement.

“You will follow your orders, without question.” The old man shouted.

“Sir, with respect, I am no longer in the army. You really cannot order me.”

Anderson cleared his throat and blushed handing an envelope out to Watson. “Mycroft thought you might hesitate to assist us, so here are your commission papers. You are once again in the Northumberland Fusiliers and you cannot refuse the commission by the way.”

Watson so desperately wanted to smack that weasel’s face. “NO!”

“Watson!” Stafford shouted.

Mallory stood and took a step between the two men. “Please, if I may explain to Dr. Watson?” He turned to face the soldier. “Sir, I know how you feel about Holmes and Anderson. I realize you blame them for your friend’s death. Time has proven you right in your assertions and Sherlock Holmes was correct and wronged. This is an opportunity to help your dead friend’s brother. Help me convince Quincy and Bond of the Prince Regents good will and it may help you come to terms with losing your friend.”

John stood still, his face a grimace. He glared at the three men in the room.

“Finally, Dr. Watson, if you do not accompany me to find the Skyfall, when you leave this room, you will be arrested for dereliction of duty.” Mallory said in a half whisper. John knew he had no choice. He had to go with Mallory and chase down this pirate.

“May I at least say good bye to my fiancé?”


	4. Birthdays and Heart Aches

Birthdays and Heart Aches

The harbor of Kingston was boisterous and busy. Ships coming and going, cargo being transferred back and forth from the pirate ships and onto the merchant vessels. The merchant vessels could legal transport the stolen goods into the ports of the new world as well as Europe without fear of the law. Sugar, cotton, lumber and gold. All valuable, all available in the port of Kingston.

Bond and Alec walked side by side down the quay heading toward the loudest tavern on the docks. Toad and Midge were going to celebrate their eighteenth birthdays today. The two boys had stayed in Kingston with James' oldest friend Kincaide, to grow up to be gentlemen and not pirates. The crew was looking forward to seeing the two and a day and night of drinking and carousing and hopefully finding some female company.

Q followed the group of men wondering if this wasn’t a bad idea.

“Captain Bond, Mr. Quincy!” A shout carried over the hum of the wharf. Q twisted to see Midge running up to them.

“Midge? Where have you two been? We thought you would meet the ship?” Q asked quickly.

“Oh God, Mr. Quincy,” Midge ran up, then bent over panting. “Quick, it’s Toad. He’s signing on another ship!”

“What?!” James shouted.

James started running down the quay with Midge. “He wants to leave. He didn’t want to wait for you. He’s signing up on a different ship.” Midge explained as the four men ran to the other end of the dock.

“Fucking little bastard!” James shouted. At the end of a dock stood a tall man with broad shoulders, his face deeply tanned and lined, with a square jaw. His hair was pale blonde almost white and cut short to his skull. Toad stood in front of the man shaking his hand, then the young man bent over a table and signed a ledger. “Toad, stop!”

Toad’s head shot up and looked at the angry captain, as he ran up to him. The poor boy looked scared and stepped back away from the tall blonde.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bond shouted at the young man.

Toad squared his shoulders, “I’m signing on the crew of the Kerim Bey.”

“No you are not!” James barked at him.

“And why the hell not?” The tall blonde voice boomed. His accent thick Irish. “What is wrong with my ship?”

Q stepped in between James and the other captain. “There is nothing wrong with your ship or your crew, it’s just Toad is already on the crew of the Skyfall.”

“Like hell I am!” Toad yelled, his voice cracked. “And bloody hell, quit calling me Toad, my name is Robert Todd Smith.”

“You are my ward and I refuse to let you sign on a bloody pirate ship!” The Bond clenched his fists.

“I’m twenty years old!” Robert said.

“You’re seventeen, and I don’t care if you’re hundred and three, you will only sail on the Skyfall.”

“The hell I will!”

Q turned to the other captain. “Um captain . . . ?”

“Grant, Red Grant of the Kerim Bey.”

“Yes, Captain Grant, as you can see this is really a family dispute. If you could please reconsider Robert’s enlistment.” Q tried desperately to defuse the situation.

“No, you don’t get to tell me what to do any more.” Robert barked.

James just stood staring Robert down. Robert tried but could maintain James’ gaze. He bowed his head and stepped back behind Q. Red Grant watched the whole scene. He leaned over and stuck Robert’s name from the ledger.

“Take the whelp. Useless, cur.”

Bond turned and growled at the other captain. The two men glared at each other. Q turned and pushed Toad down the quay, then turned and said to Grant. “Thank you sir for understanding.”

“I remember now,” Grant said sarcastically cocking his head. “You’re that buggering captain. Enjoys taking it up the arse.”

Q’s eyes flew open wide as he saw James face flash with killing rage. Q stepped in front of James and grabbed his arms.

“James . . .”

The two men heard a grunt and sound of fist hitting a face. James and Alec laughed as Q turned to see Grant fall to the dock with Toad standing over him.

“Don’t you say anything against the captain!” Toad roared. “And don’t call me useless, you bastard!”

Alec grabbed Toad’s shoulder and pulled the young man down the quay toward the taverns. Q and Bond followed with Midge bring up the rear.

Q slowed and waited for Midge to catch up to them. “What was that all about?”

“Toad is angry that you weren’t here when Grandpa Kincaide died. He missed you and wanted you here.”

James stopped and grabbed Midge’s arm. “Kincaide is dead!?”

“Yes sir, he died two months ago. He had been sick for awhile. He kept waiting for you to return.” James paled and Q wanted to reach out and hold his lover.

Kincaide had been the games keeper of James Bond’s ancestral home in Scotland. When he became a pirate, he returned and saved Kincaide and his wife from poverty. He had given them a home in Jamaica where they had lived together and raised Midge and Toad to be gentlemen instead of pirates. Now both Kincaide and his wife were dead. He had to take Toad and Midge with him. He couldn’t leave the two men in Kingston alone.

“I . . . Midge, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you and Toad. I know it had to be difficult. You will both return to the Skyfall.” James said.

Midge looked intently at the captain. “But sir, I . . . sir, I’ve met someone here. I want to stay in Kingston.”

James narrowed his eyes. Q smiled and said, “Give us details.”

“Her name is Christmas Jones, she is the ward of Silas Jones and his wife. They own the dry goods on the other side of Kingston.”

“Christmas?” Q asked.

“Yes her parents were on a ship coming here from England when it was attacked by a French pirate, Renard. It was found adrift. She was the only one still alive. That was ten years ago on Christmas day. She’s sixteen now.”

Bond nodded, he had heard of the pirate. He was ruthless and cruel. Enjoyed torturing his victims.

“Does she make you happy?” James asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Then what are you going to do if you stay?”

“I’ll work for the Jones in their store. Mr. Jones does not have any issue and he has said if I marry Christmas, he will leave me the store when he dies.”

“From powder monkey on a pirate ship to store clerk on dry land.” James smiled at the boy. “Go on, go back to your Christmas, but I will be by later to give my consent or not.”

“He will give it,” Q said leaning over to the boy. “Don’t worry.”

*****

The tavern was noisy and crowded. The Skyfall crew was already deep in their cups by the time James and Q arrived. Alec and Toad sat at a table in the back where different members of the crew where buying the young man drinks and slapping him on his back. The Russian had regaled the bar with the story of how the young man brought down the Irish ship captain with a single punch. The crew cheered and laughed. Saying Toad was just like their Captain Bond.

James smiled broadly as he walked across the tavern to the table. Toad looked up and saw the older man approaching, a worried look crossed his face and narrowed his shoulders, pulling himself in tight. James set both fists on the table and leaned over. Towering over the young man. The room silenced.

“One punch.” He smiled. “I guess this means you are more than able to take care of yourself now. I will be needing a new gunner’s mate. How would you like the job?”

Toad smiled, then cocked his head to the side. “What will you be calling me?”

“Robert Todd Smith.” Toad smiled back and stuck his hand out to shake the captains. The room exploded in cheers and Alec slapped Toad on the back, almost knocking the young man off the bench they were sitting on.

Q moved around and sat down next to Toad and the real celebrations started. After several hours of cheers and spirits, the crew of the Skyfall was loud and drunk.

James was leaning heavily on Q singing along with the crew a crude song about a woman from Bridgeport and her habit of riding horses naked, when there came a crash from the far side of the tavern.

“Who the fuck told you!?” Alec boomed as he threw a man across a table. Q looked up to see a shirtless man with long stringy black hair try to quickly pick himself off the floor as Alec rushed him. The shirtless man dodged as Alec swung a fist at his head. “Tell me you bastard!”

Bond started to rise from the bench when Q grabbed his forearm and pulled him back down. “Alec can handle him, don’t worry.”

The shirtless man was as tall as Alec with a broad chest and a narrow waist, but he wasn’t as muscled. He was in fact, skinny as a rail, just like Q. But he was fast. He dodged and weaved, avoiding Alec and the other sailors from the Skyfall, who were trying and failing to aid the first mate.

“Stand still, you arse! I’m going to kill you for saying that!”

Just then the doors of tavern were kicked in and Grant came rushing in followed by member of his crew. “Where’s that fucking whelp?!” he shouted, and the battle began. The crew of the Skyfall and Kerim Bey attacked each other. Chairs were thrown, furniture broken and bottles crashed. Bond leaped over the table he had been sitting behind with Q and rushed head long into the fray.

Q watched as the shirtless man suddenly took the boxing stance of Eton and Oxford. Feet shoulder’s width apart, left foot forward, right foot back and pointed out. The man brought his hands up in defense and punched Alec squarely in the nose. The big Russian’s head popped back and came back bloody.

 _‘An Oxford educated pirate? What was the world coming too?’_ Q thought to himself. No one had yet noticed the young man sitting quietly behind the table. As if he was the calm eye in the violent storm. Brick-er-brack flew past him and fist and faces bloodied, but no paid him any attention. It wasn’t the first brawl he had watched the crew get into.

Two sailors of the Kerim Bey were holding James’ arms back as Grant stood in front of the restrained captain. Q’s eyes flew wide and he leapt onto the table. As Grant pulled his arm back to punch James’ face, Q jumped on the man’s back, wrapping his legs around the beast’s waist and covering Grant's mouth and eyes with his hands.

Grant flayed trying to dislodge the wiry man from his back with no luck. He was blind and unable to call out for help. Grant stumbled backwards till he crashed into a wall. He leaned forward then shoved back as hard as he could crushing Q into the plaster. The air being shoved out of Q’s lungs, the young man lost his grip and slid down the back of the Irishman.

“Q!!” James shouted as he tried to free himself from the two men.

Grant turned to kick at Q’s head, when the shirtless man knocked the bigger man down with a flying tackle. Once down the skinny man repeatedly punched Grant in the face till the bigger man quit moving.

The Skyfall sailors scattered the other crew after that. James rushed to Q’s side.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”

“What, save your life?!” Q shouted back at James.

“He could of killed you, you idiot!”

“Not hardly,” Q pulled himself over to the skinny shirtless man still sitting on Grant’s chest. “I think I should thank you.”

The man pulled his hair back away from his face and look down on Q, bright blue green eyes shined out at the young man. Q gasped and pulled himself back.

“Hello, brother dear.”


	5. Meeting the Dead

Meeting the Dead

Bond kicked the door to the ward room open as he dragged Q in behind him. Alec had Sherlock’s arm in his tight grip as he shoved him in and over to large table. Robert followed behind the four men.

“Toad, tell Dalton to ready the boat for sail,” Bond shouted as shoved Q into their cabin.

“It’s Robert and half the crew is still on shore!” Toad, Robert, shouted back.

Alec smiled as he pushed Sherlock into a chair. “Sit.”

“Fine, tell Rory to bring some water to shave that bastard,” the captain said slamming the door closed.

Robert turned to Alec, “Who the hell is Rory?”

“The new powder monkey. You didn’t think we went without one for the last seven years?”

Robert shook his head and went in search of the young boy. Alec turned and took a chair opposite of Sherlock, staring the man down.

“Okay who told you about me and the captain?”

“No one told me a thing. It was obvious just looking at you and how you interacted with them. You and he were both orphans, were in the Royal Navy together and became pirates together. Of course you had had a personal relationship with Bond, and it was long ago when you were both younger, but he has moved on.” Sherlock cocked his head to the side, “not once, but twice he has found another and you have found no one.”

“I’m not jealous of Q.”

“No, but jealous your friend has found someone, found a relationship you can’t.”

“Piss off.”

“That’s what they all say, how boring.”

Alec leaned forward resting his elbows on the table and staring down the shaggy man in front of him. “So if you’re the dead brother, what’s his real name?”

“As I said boring. Quincy Alcott Holmes.”

*****

Bond slammed the door shut and pushed Q down into a chair. He ran his hand through Q’s hair looking for any sign of injury.

“James stop it! That’s my brother! Let me go see him!”

“Your brother? Your dead brother? Q did you hit your head? Did that bastard hurt you anywhere?”

Q relaxed his shoulders, “James I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

Bond growled and pick the young man up off the chair and shoved him into the door, “Damn it Q, don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

“James stop. They’ll hear and think we are . . .”

The captain pulled Q off the door and pushed back again. He grabbed the young man’s wrists and pulled them over his head and pinned him to the door.

“Good, let them hear that you are mine. You ever do anything stupid like that again I’ll fuck you in front of the crew to keep you in line.” He leaned forward and bit into the pulse point on Q’s neck. The young man moaned in pleasure.

“James stop, ahhh.”

*****

Alec and Sherlock turned their heads when they heard the cabin door rock as someone was being pushed into it. The second thud made Sherlock turn and stare at Alec. The sailor had a smug smile as Q called out “James stop.”

Sherlock rose, started to move to the closed door.

“I wouldn’t do that. The captain doesn’t like to be disturbed when he is busy with his companion.”

“That companion is my younger brother. You honestly do not expect me to sit here and listen to him being compromised.”

“Why not, I’ve had to listen to it for two years.”

The ward room door opened and a ten year boy with a round pleasant face entered. He carried a bucket with steaming water and towel.

“The man says cap’t wants a shave.” He announced setting the bucket down on the table.

“Not the captain, but this man.” Alec nodded over to Sherlock. Another loud moan was heard through the cabin door of the captain’s, Rory’s eye became large like sauces, as he turned back to Alec.

“I ah, ah . . . I need to get some a . . . I need to get . . . I’ll be right back.” The boy took off running from the room as Alec laughed and Sherlock became angrier.

*****

James was leaning in to Q’s body pinning the young man to the door. Holding his wrists above his head, Q couldn’t stop James as the captain kissed and nipped up and down the length of the young man’s neck.

“James you’ve got stop, I need to talk to my brother. I need to know what happened. Please.”

“I can’t believe you attacked that man to save me, you wild gorgeous sprite. I want to ravage you now. Let me take you to bed. Let me have your body now.” He bit hard on to Q’s shoulder.

“Later, I promise. I let you do anything you want. Just let me see Sherlock now.”

“It’s not Sherlock, Q. Sherlock is dead. Come with me now.”

“It is him, he called me brother. Let me go, I promise later. Anything.”

“Anything?” James leaned back, his eyes burning brightly with lust.

“Yes, you’ve wanted to tie me up and torment me. Maybe tonight will be the beginning of something new?”

James leaned forward and kissed the young man deeply. Pulling back he hissed, “Tonight, as soon as I prove this is not your brother.”

Pulling away from Q, James grabbed the door handle and yanked the door open.

*****

Sherlock and Alec sat glaring daggers at each other as James stepped into the ward room followed by a blushing Q. The young man’s neck red with love bites, his skin lightly glistening with sweat. Q rushed over to Sherlock and knelt in front of his brother.

“Sherlock, is it really you?”

“Yes Quincy, don’t be so obtuse. Have your wits dulled in this environment of physical pursuits?”

Rory poked his head back into the ward room, he was carrying the shaving kit, looking around to see if it was safe.

“Rory shave this bastard now. I want to see this face.” James ordered.

Rory went to work trimming the scruffy beard and pulling the long hair away from Sherlock’s face. Sherlock leaned back as the boy lathered up the badger hair brush in the shaving soap cup.

“How did you survive the fall, Sherlock?” Q asked his brother.

“It was actually quite simple. When one falls into a river, every one naturally looks down stream for the body to appear. No one pays attention to what is up stream. I knew Moriarty had discredited me and Pitt. The only chance the Prime Minister had was for me to die. With my death, Pitt could affectively bring Parliament to task and elected a regent. So I died. I jumped off the Westminster Bridge and into the icy waters of the Thames.”

Q leaned back on to his heals, James could see the tears start to form in his eyes. “What no one saw was the steam boat up river about hundred yards,” Sherlock continued, “and the heavy hemp rope with the white cloths tied to it so it would be easy for me to see under water. As I jumped, I aimed for the rope and grabbed it. As soon as I hit the water the paddle boat took off up river away from the bridge and the growing crowds. My conspirators pulled the rope on board their little boat, hauling in not a fish but a man.”

As Sherlock finished his story, Rory finished the shave. Sherlock now bare faced, sat up and looked down on his brother. Q face was still flushed red, but not with embarrassment but with anger. The young man leapt from his knees and crashed into his brother, the two falling to the floor.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO US, DAMN YOU?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO JOHN!?” The two Holmes rolled over the deck, “YOU JUST ABOUT KILLED HIM, YOU IDIOT!!!”

James pulled Q from the throat of his brother and into his arms. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He is your brother. Only a Holmes can be so thoughtless of his brothers.”

Alec laughed as he pulled Sherlock up to his feet, pushing him back down into the chair again.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?! TO HURT ME SOME MORE?!”

“No baby brother,” Sherlock said softly, “I need you and your pirate to save England.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment welcome


	6. Playing with the Big Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any mistakes, I do not have a beta and I can only proof read it so many times.

Playing with the Big Dogs

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?! TO HURT ME SOME MORE?!”

“No baby brother,” Sherlock said softly, “I need you and your pirate to save England.”

Q and James stared at the dark haired Holmes. James slowly let Q go, the young man slipping from his grasp.

“You made me believe you were dead, took your own life. Made me suffer for two years wishing I had one more chance to say things to you. Then you come back to life and want our help? No ‘sorry I tortured you for two years’, ‘sorry I wasn’t there for you’. ‘Sorry I abandoned you to our manipulative family’. Just you need us, YOU NEED!” Q marched up and punched Sherlock in the face and turned to leave the room, slamming the door as he rushed out.

Alec and Rory stared at James. The captain was stone faced and clenched fist, glaring at Holmes.

“Will you two please leave Mr. Holmes and myself alone. We need to talk.”

Sherlock stood up straight holding the side of his face his brother just hit. His silvery eyes flashed with anger at the blonde haired man. Alec wondered if he should stay behind and stop any major bloodshed. Rory was more than happy to run out of the room.

“James?” Alec asked softly.

“Don’t worry Alec, everyone will make it through the night.” Bond said still not looking at his best friend but glaring at the tall skinny man in front of him. Alec slowly stood and walked out of the ward room, but he stood just outside the closed door.

“So you are the man who has defiled my little brother.” Sherlock said refusing to back down from Bond’s stare.

“And you are the bastard that tore the heart out of my Q.”

“His name is Quincy, not Q. I remember how he looked when he came home after you kidnapped him. He was an excited and adventurous eighteen year old when he left. I knew what Quincy and Uncle Desmond were doing. I knew he was running away, but then after eight months he came back. Came back from you. He was a shadow of himself. He quit caring about anything. Just did what he was told to do. He wouldn’t even talk to me anymore. My friend John had to find out about you.”

“What did Q tell this John about me?”

“Just that you were a pirate and Quincy had left you in Bridgeport. I surmise he escaped you and Mycroft brought him home to us. Unfortunately by then he was half a man. Tell me did you seduce Quincy or did you just rape him. Make him your bed mate without his consent. Then as if you hadn’t done enough damage you came and kidnapped him again.”

“You arse! You don’t know a thing. Mycroft, your dear brother, blackmailed Q in returning to England. Q and I were in love, we were planning a life together when we were captured. He sacrificed his happiness to save my life. Yes he returned a hollow man, because he left his heart and soul with me. You damn Holmes have tried to destroy that man’s life since he was a child. I rescued him from Mycroft and you. And from what I can understand his heartless bitch of a mother too. I can’t tell you how many nights I held him as he cried over not being able to reconcile with you, his dead brother. What happened you were bored wherever you were and decided to make Q feel inferior again? Every member of your accursed family has tried to control that young man. Make him feel like he was nothing more than a bloody pawn in some game you all are playing.”

Sherlock leaned back for a moment studying the man’s face. "I didn't play games with Quincy's heart." He cocked his head and slowly walked around the man and looked at the door for the captain’s cabin. Sherlock stepped into the small room, and looked around.

The most prominent thing in the room was the oversize bunk. One and half times larger than a normal cabin bunk. There was a small table with two chairs, and a wash stand. But the thing that captured Sherlock’s attention were the books. There were books everywhere. On shelves, on the table, on the floor. Books with titles in English, French, Spanish, and Russian.

“Quincy doesn’t read Spanish or Russian.” Sherlock said.

“I’ve taught him.”

Sherlock turned to look at the captain. “Are these his?”

“Mostly, some we acquired for my tastes. Surely you knew your brother well enough to know he enjoys reading. He is still designing things too. He has portfolios of drawings and sketches. He has started building his designs, and not just for the Skyfall but for some other captains.”

Sherlock turned back and looked at Bond. “He always loved to read and create. He would read anything he could find. He was always so much more emotional . . . “

“Compared to you and your brother who as far as I can tell lack any kind of emotion, care, concern, or empathy, yes Q seems emotional, but he is the normal one, you two are sociopaths. I didn’t seduce or coerce Q in any fashion. We are in love, and I don’t care what your narrow minded bigotry is about such an arrangement.”

Sherlock turned back to look at the books.

“I am not unfamiliar with the feelings of love for a man. But I never thought my little brother would fall for someone like you.” Sherlock said softly.

“What a pirate?”

“I thought you were uneducated brute who took advantage of my brother’s naivety.” Sherlock stepped out of the room and over to Bond. “I believe I made deductions on incomplete data. Does he love you?”

“He says he does. He makes me believe he does.”

“Do you promise to always put him first?”

“He is my first thought in the morning and my last before I sleep.”

Sherlock looked the man up and down, studying him. Bond did not like the scrutiny, his fist closed tightly.

“Captain Bond I believe we will be able to work together.”

“Work together? After the thoughtless bastard you were to Q, never!” James brought his right hand fist up fast and hard. It crashed into the side of Sherlock’s face. Almost in the exact same spot the Q had hit his brother. The tall dark haired man fell to the floor.

“James!” Q shouted from the open door. The young man rushed forward, escaping Alec’s reach. He crossed the room to his brother, kneeling over him checking the damage his lover hd done. Q gently stroked down Sherlock’s face. James looked surprised by Q’s response. This was the man who had caused Q so much pain, why was Q rushing to his aid now.

“James what were you thinking? You could have hurt him?”

“Q?”

Sherlock reached up to take hold of Q’s hand. The young man stilled then looked down at their joined hands. Slowly he shook his head. “No, not again. You will just lead me on and hurt me.” Q stood and turned to James. “And I don’t need you to defend me from my family.”

James reached for Q, but the man backed away. Q shook his head and walked away from James and Sherlock. Leaving both men.


	7. Orders from the Admiralty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to introduce one more character. I know this ff seems to drag. Thank you for being patient.

Orders from the Admiralty

John Watson wanted to know what the hell he was doing here. He was a soldier not a fucking sailor, and retired not active duty and most of all engaged to a wonderful woman. What the hell was he doing on this ship in the middle of the Caribbean?

The HMS Vauxhall was anchored off the Jamaican coast in Montego. Several other British vessels were present, but none as big as the Man a War. Captain Mallory and his crew had made good time in the crossing over from Portsmouth to Montego, only eleven weeks. Two weeks faster than what John had been told, but he was none the more pleased about it. He did not want to be here, he wanted to be home with Mary and not on an errand for the damn Holmes again.

John stepped up onto the quarter deck and looked around. Tanner, the second in command was giving instruction to a boatswain when he saw John crossing the deck towards him.

“Good morrow, Dr. Watson.” It had been agreed to call John by his civilian title instead of the military one, to avoid confusion aboard ship.

“Morning, so how long do we wait for this pirate you claim has Quincy?”

“We sent riders out yesterday to Kingston. They should be there tonight. If Bond and the Skyfall are there, they will set sail maybe tomorrow and the riders will return here day after next. Then we will meet them at the rendezvous in two more days. That is of course if the Skyfall is in port.”

“Why couldn’t we have just gone to Kingston?”

“It is a pirate haven. If we showed up there, a single King’s ship, we would’ve be sunk before we got near the harbor entrance.”

“What if the Skyfall is not in port?” John asked.

“Then I have orders to leave you in Montego until you are able to make contact with the ship.” Mallory said as he walked up to the two men. John’s head spun to look at the Captain.

“Orders?!”

“Yes. We need to leave as soon as possible with a passenger. I was given orders just before we set sail. We will stay here for three days taking on supplies and water and then set sail. If contact with the Skyfall is made we will meet them, if not . . .”

“If not I will travel back with you to England. You will not be leaving me in this God forsaken backwater waiting on the whims of another Holmes.”

“Dr. Watson, I have my orders.”

“Damn your orders, if I must be left behind, leave me in the British Virgin Islands, at least there I will be able to gain passage back to England.”

“Sir Phillip and Lord Holmes were very clear as to where you were to wait. And wait here you will until the Skyfall returns.”

“And if it never returns?”

“Then you will have a long wait.”

“Long boat approaching!” called the watchman from the wheel deck. Mallory and Tanner looked up over the rail to see the small boat rowing slowly across the harbor towards them. Six people could be seen in the boat but every eye was fixed on the person under the parasol.

The long boat rowed up to the hull of the Vauxhall, and lines were dropped to secure the two crafts together. The small woman was helped up the ladder to the quarter deck as her luggage was tossed up roughly by the sailors.

“Miss Mary Margaret Hooper, I presume?” Mallory took the young woman’s hand and gave a short quick bow. The small woman tipped her parasol back and revealed her face. Her skin was porcelain white and her large eyes were chocolate brown. She possessed an inquisitive expression and intelligence sparkled behind her eyes. As the Captain gently released her hand, she blushed slightly, or maybe it was the heat that quickly tinted her skin John thought.

“Sir, I was informed that I am to return to England with you but no one will tell me why. Is my father well?” She asked, her voice soft yet strong.

“Miss, I have not received any news one way or another in regards to your father, the Colonel. I was just ordered to return you to England as soon as we were done with our other commission here in Jamaica.”

The young woman nodded and turned to the Tanner and John. “Miss. Hooper, my first officer, William Tanner and another passenger, Dr. John Watson.” Mallory introduced the three.

“Please call me Molly, Miss Hooper is far too formal for such a long journey.” She smiled at the two men, and Tanner couldn’t help but smile back brightening his whole face.

“Molly, it will be lovely having you on board. I know we will have a lovely journey home to England together.”

“Thank you. May I retire to my cabin, the day is getting quite warm and I would like to rest.”

“May I escort you to your cabin?” Tanner asked.

“No, Tanner, I need you on the fore deck. Watson may take the young lady to her cabin, next to his.” Mallory nodded to John and Tanner’s shoulders slumped.

John led Molly through the ladders of the ship to their cabin near the Captain’s cabin just below the quarter deck. Her space was small with a bed built up with compartments underneath the mattress and a chair and a wash stand.

“Not very fancy, is it?” John said and he opened the door for her.

“Don’t worry about me. I familiar with a Spartan existence. Daughter of the Regiment.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, my father is Colonel Wallace Hooper. He is stationed on Elba at present.”

“Elba? Guarding the Little Corporal?”

She smiled and laughed, “Yes, if you want to call it that. From what I come to understand, there are visitors coming and going. No prison bars or half rations. The last letter I received from him, he told me had gained two stone.”

John enjoyed her laugher, it reminded him of his Mary.

“Well, hopefully, we will all be returning to London soon and you will get to see you father.”

“Thank you doctor.”

“Please call me John.” He smiled at her and she returned a sincere smile. He closed the door and left her to rest.


	8. Morning Combat

Morning Combat

James Bond has decided he hated the damn Holmes brothers. First, that bastard Mycroft blackmails his youngest brother in giving up his life as a pirate, and James and Q lost five years together. Now, the second oldest brother, after breaking Q’s heart thinking he was dead, is back and demanding they hunt down the French pirate, Renard. In three days on board the tall thin git had insulted everyone and started four separate fights. The crew was ready to mutiny to get rid of him. To top it all off, now Q wouldn’t let James touch him. Q spent every night pacing their cabin or the ward room only finally crawling into the bunk next to Bond, exhausted and angry. Pushing away the captain’s attempts to hold him. He wouldn’t speak to his brother, but neither will he tell James what he was thinking. The captain was ready to throw the older Holmes over board to save his ship.

What a relief it was when the riders arrived to tell him his old enemy, Captain Gareth Mallory, requested a meeting with him under truce. At this point Bond was ready to meet with the bloody king of England to get his ship back in order. He notified his crew they would be sailing and told the riders to return to Montego immediately.

Sherlock was furious and demanded they go after Renard. He claimed Renard had some “key” that would destroy England. Whatever the hell that was, Sherlock either didn’t know or wouldn’t tell them. He tried repeatedly to get Q to speak to him, but the young man avoided his brother even more than he avoided James.

By twilight, two days later, the Skyfall was passing the break waters of Kingston harbor and heading to the isolated bay the Vauxhall had requested to meet in. Trevelyan constantly told Bond it was a trap. The British Navy wanted to get Q back, but at this point Bond just wanted to do something. And if a sea battle was what it was, then by damn he was going to kill someone.

*****

HMS Vauxhall left Montego Bay within hours of receiving the message from the riders. Watson couldn’t have been happier. The sooner he was done delivering the message the sooner he could return to his Mary. The ship left at near sunset and travelled east to the meeting place.

Watson noticed how Mallory started to bristle at the mere mention of the pirate ship and her captain, this James Bond. He had surmised they had met previously and it had not gone as the British captain had wished. Tanner would not elaborate on the events, other than to say, that Quincy Holmes was the most irritating man he had ever met. John smiled, obviously they had never met the boy’s older brothers.

In the early dawn light, the pirate ship Electra was in the shadows as the Vauxhall travelled into the sun. It was able to close the distance quickly on the British ship and was in firing range before she was spotted. The cannon balls crashing over the deck and smashing into the superstructure.

The crew scrambled as Mallory stormed onto the deck, half dressed. Shouting orders to add sail. The sailors rushed up the ratlines to the yard arms. Half the canvas had been held back since they were so close to the coast, now all the sails were un-furloughed to try and out distant the unknown ship.

*****

Robert knocked hard on Captain Bond’s cabin door. “Cap’t, cap’t, there’s cannon fire ahead of us!”

James climbed over Q’s sleeping body and rushed to open the door. Having slept in his breeches, James ran up the ladder to the quarter deck shirtless. Alec following behind him.

“Are the bloody British firing on us?”

“I don’t think so.” James climbed to the poop deck and took the spyglass from Dalton. Scanning the horizon, he found the Vauxhall, opening their sails, then behind them, he saw the second ship. “No they're not firing on us, but being fired on. Dalton, increase canvas, we are going into a fight. Cannons loaded, ball.”

Sherlock had come up onto the quarter deck watching the crew rush to their positions.

“Where is Quincy?!” he shouted at James.

“Still asleep, go to my cabin and keep him there! If I see either one of you on this deck and I’ll throw you overboard!”

Sherlock glared at the captain but went down the stairs to keep his younger brother safe.

*****

Tanner looked up over the fore deck and saw the other ship coming toward them. “Captain Mallory, ahead of us!” The next round of cannon fire fell short, aft of the ship.

Mallory spun and looked forward to see the Skyfall about a mile in front of them. She was releasing her canvas and speeding towards them. He turned to see the unknown pirate ship behind them fire for a third time. The rounds hit low on the Vauxhall near the water line.

“Get Hooper and Watson to the surgery now. Let’s hope that bastard Bond gets here soon enough.”

Tanner shouted orders to the boatswain as the crew members ran down the ladders to try and stop the ship from taking in too much water.

As soon as Watson heard the cannon fire, he went to Molly’s cabin. He was armed with his pistol and was guarding the door. Boatswain told Watson what the captain had said and the doctor pulled Molly close to his side as the two rushed to the surgery. No sailors had been injured yet, but it was the safest place inside the ship.

The decks of the Vauxhall began to groan and tilt slightly as the ship began to take water.

“They mean to sink us instead of capture!” Tanner called out to his captain.

“Were so close to the shore, the crew could swim for it! I don’t understand his tactic!” A fourth round of cannon ball blasted a five foot hole at the water line of the British ship. She was taking water fast now. Mallory looked to the coast line, the bay they were to meet Skyfall in was just to starboard of the ship. The center of the bay was deep but sandy shoals were just past the mouth of the bay.

The crew busily pushed boards and crates into the hole in the hull trying desperately to slow the water pouring in. Beams were wedged into place to maintain the make shift patch as the water deepened in the hold.

Mallory grabbed the wheel of the ship and spun it hard to the right. The ship shifted course and headed into the bay. The captain didn’t straighten the wheel but steered right onto the shallow sand bar.

The ship shuttered and timber groaned as the keel dug into the wet sand and the ship suddenly stopped. Crew and passengers were thrown forwards with the crash. Rigging fell as the masts swayed and almost snapped.

Molly screamed in panic and John swore as she flew into his arms. The pair crashed to the deck in surgery. “Idiot, he’s run us aground! We’re sitting ducks for their cannons now!”

*****

“They’ve run her aground, cap’t!” Robert shouted to James and Alec. “The Vauxhall is taking water fast!”

Alec and James could see the unknown pirate ship coming closer to the Vauxhall for another cannon volley. James spun the wheel to port and Skyfall shifted left. The starboard cannons were now aimed at the pirate ship.

“At your command Dalton!” James shouted and the Gunner’s mate ordered. ‘Fire!’ The Skyfall rocked to the left as the cannons fired and the unknown pirate ship deck splintered as the balls cut through the ship.

The ship turned away from Vauxhall and turned onto the Skyfall. It tried to fire a volley at the ship but Dalton already had his cannons reloaded and firing a second volley. The starboard side of the second ship exploded with splitting wood and debris.

The pirate ship turned away from the Skyfall and retreated into the pale light of dawn.

*****

Q woke suddenly with the sound of the first volley of cannon fire. He sat up in bed and looked around.

“Sherlock! What are you doing in here?!” Q heard the shouting coming from the gun deck and jumped from the bunk, pulling on his clothes as the second volley fired.

“Your pirate captain sent me here to watch over you. Two years and he still treats you like a child?”

“Shut it Sherlock! Don’t you dare say anything against James!”

“Your James said he would throw me overboard if you showed your face on deck.”

“Good!” he grabbed the door handle. Sherlock jumped up from his chair and pulled his younger brother back.

“Damn it Quincy, enough is enough. Listen to me. I had to do what I did. There was a man trying to control the king. If Pitt didn’t insist on Parliament electing the Regent, then who knows who would be in charge in England now. I had to die to protect Pitt and everyone else I cared about.”

“You never care about any of us. Lest of all, John or me. You saw what they did to me. You saw what I had become. And you left me to them. Because of you, John fell apart. You decided to fake your death without any concern what would happen to those closest to you.” Q shouted as he tried to free himself for Sherlock’s grip. “Did you even think what your action would do to John?”

“John’s a soldier, he was going to be fine.”

“He almost killed Mycroft. He verbally attacked Lady Em. Called her a heartless bitch without an ounce of maternal care.”

“When did you ever concern yourself with Mycroft’s safety or Mummy’s feelings?” Sherlock hissed back at his younger brother.

“When you decided to walk off a bridge and fall into the Thames.” Q pushed his brother away and stormed out of the cabin.


	9. Old Friends

Old Friends

Bond ordered the sails pulled as he steered the Skyfall into the small bay past the damaged Vauxhall. The crew of the pirate ship watched as the aft of the British ship sank lower into the sandbar, listing to port.

“Drop anchor! Robert, get two men out on either side of the bay to keep a watch for that other ship!” Bond shouted to the young man. “Musket crew to ready!” He turned to Alec, “keep a look out for that bloody ship. Any guesses who she was?”

“The flag was black with a single skull and bone. I think that French pirate, Renard, was flying something like that.” Alec said as loaded his pistol. The two pirates looked over at the Vauxhall, watching a long boat being lowered into the water. “Looks like we should be expecting company, captain.”

The five men climbed into the long boat and the small craft rowed the short distance to the Skyfall. Bond and Alec stepped down on to the quarter deck as Q came up from the ward room. The young man nodded to the other two and went to the rail to watch the boat arrive. Just before the ropes were tossed to the long boat, Q recognized the smaller man in the boat. He quickly looked around, trying to see if his brother was on deck. He stepped up to James, leaning over and whispered into James’ ear.

“Send them back to their ship now please. Don’t let them come up here.”

“Now you talk to me?” James’ voice was harsh. “This is my ship and I do whatever I damn well please, thank you.” He moved away from his lover and called out to his crew. “Secure the boat and drop the ladder.”

Mallory, Tanner and Watson climbed up the rope ladder and onto the deck of the Skyfall. The ship was in the cool shade of earlier morning in the small bay, but Q was sweating.

“I see I had to rescue you from the French again,” James said as Mallory stepped on board. The British officer refused to acknowledge the comment.

Watson saw Quincy and smiled at him. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around the young man.

“Quincy, it is so good to see again. I’ve been worried about you. I understand why you left, but I still worried.” John said pulling back but still held Q’s forearms. James and Alec tensed at the familiarity the stranger had with the young man.

“Ah, James, this is Dr. John Watson. He is a friend from London. He was Sherlock’s friend.” Q stumbled over the introductions. “John, this is Captain James Bond of the Skyfall and his second in command, Alec Trevelyan.”

John let go of Q’s arms and shook hands with the two men. Mallory glared at Trevelyan and kept his hands at his side. He still had not forgotten how the green eyed Russian had kidnapped Quincy and his uncle from him years ago.

“So what is this proposition the British Navy has for us? It better not be to give Q back again.” James face tightened and his jaw set for a fight.

“I was requested to come a talk to Quincy by his family. As you know they are very important in the royal court.” The doctor turned to the young man. “Quincy, your mother is old and wants to see you one more time.” Q could see the tension in the doctor’s body. He did not want to be here. He did not want to be talking to Q.

“Is she dying?”

“No, nothing like that, she just wants to see you and get the chance to say good bye. She didn’t get to say good bye to . . . well it doesn’t matter anymore. Mycroft is willing to do this for her by promising a Letter of Marque and pardons for the captain and crew of the Skyfall.”

“He’s blackmailing Q again, isn't he? This is how he took Q away the first time. It won’t work again.” James barked out at the doctor. The doctor did not rise to the bait.

“There are no strings attached to the offer other than Quincy comes back to England once to see his mother and brother. After the meeting, the pardons and the Letter will be freely given to all of you, including Quincy. Who can then leave with you once the meeting is over.”

“Why is she doing this John?” Q asked.

“I honestly don’t know. I was told to come here and give you the message. I’ve given it and now I can return home to my fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” Q’s eyes widened.

“Yes, her name is Mary. I can return to her and never have to hear another word about your cursed family again.” John’s anger was beginning to grow.

“John?”

“I’m sorry Quincy, but let’s face it. The only reason I’m here is because they know they cannot get close to you to speak. And your captain is right, this is blackmail by Mycroft again. If it was me I would spit in their faces and tell them to bugger off.”

Mallory tensed at the doctor’s cold words.

“If that is how you feel, why did you come to deliver the message in the first place?” Alec asked.

“Because that bastard Mycroft had me re-commissioned and ordered here. I’m a Captain in the army again, without my permission. If I didn’t come, he was going to have me court marshalled and thrown in the brig.”

“Q, your family is rather mercenary aren’t they?” James said taking a step closer to Q.

Mallory shifted and turned to John, “Watson, this is not what you were supposed to do. You were to convince the man to return to England for his mother. Not further drive the two apart.”

“I think the young man can think for himself. He is, after all, very intelligent. Cambridge educated.”

Q smiled at the doctor as the man complimented him. The dark mass of hair came up the ladder from the hatch behind John. Q saw as his brother stepped up onto the quarter deck. The color drained rapidly for Q’s face and quickly sucked in a deep breath.

“Quincy are you alright?” John reached forward and took Q’s arm again, watching as fear covered his face.

The single word. The deep baritone voice, the sound so close to warm honey over a lover’s lips.

“John.”

The name pronounced almost with a French accent. _‘Jawwan.’_ The doctor stilled, his grip on Q’s forearm increased, his jaws locked and his eyes rapidly swam in unshed tears.

“My dear John, I knew you would be here when I needed you most.”

James and Alec looked over the doctor’s shoulder to see Sherlock standing behind John. The smaller man weaved and his color drained.

“Aren’t you going to say hello to your old friend?” Sherlock asked.

John let go of Q and spun rapidly. Lunging for Sherlock’s throat he shouted, “TWO BLOODY YEARS! TWO FUCKING BLOODY YEARS! YOU BASTARD!”

The two men went rolling across the deck to the amazement of the other men standing there. John’s hands at Sherlock’s throat, the taller man trying to pull them away.

“John! Sherlock! Stop!” Q ran to trying to pull the doctor from this brother. James and Alec laughed and went to assist. Mallory and Tanner were dumb struck by the assault. Alec and James picked the doctor off Sherlock, as Q helped his brother stand. The tall dark haired man twisted and stretched his neck.

“Honestly John, was that necessary?” Sherlock’s voice broke. “You’re getting more irrational the longer I’m away.”

“How could you?! How could you do that to us?! Do you know what you have done to us?! To Quincy? To me?!” He pulled himself away from the two pirates. “Two years, Sherlock, two years I grieved for you!” Tuning back to Mallory he shouted. “I’ve done what I was supposed to do! Take me back to England now!”

“John, listen to me.” Sherlock said stepping forward. John spun around and pointed his finger at Sherlock.

“No, no more! I will not be fooled again by you! You are never to talk to me again! And no one in your damn family!” John marched over to the rail and started to go down the rope ladder.

“Dr. Watson, stop.” Mallory called out. “It’s not that simple. The Vauxhall is not going anywhere for several weeks.” John stopped and glared at the captain. “The only way to England will be on this ship, which is why I will be commandeering it, Captain Bond.” He said turning to James.

“Like hell you are!” James roared.

“The Letter of Marque makes you a British privateer. I need this ship. I need to take someone to England as soon as possible.” Mallory said staring the sailor down.

“We will not receive the letter until we reach England, therefore we are not privateers and you will not be taking my ship anywhere.” James stated coldly.

“Then you need to take the passenger to England.”

“This is a pirate ship not a bloody passenger ship. No!”

“The Admiralty has ordered it!”

“The Admiralty be damned!” Bond shouted back.

Q left his brother’s side and went to stand beside James. Mallory fumed and clinched his fists. His face red in anger. Tanner leaned over and whispered something in his captain’s ear and the man nodded. He stretched his neck, then spoke in as calm a voice as possible.

“Sir, I need to speak to you privately.”

“You can speak before these two.” Bond nodded to Alec and Q.

“Very well, we were attacked by a pirate we believe was named Renard. He was after our passenger, Mary Margaret Hooper.” Mallory had lowered his voice to a deep whisper. “We do not know why, but she needs to be taken to England as quickly as possible for her own safety. The Admiralty believes she is important enough to override Mycroft Holmes request to bring his brother home. Will you assist us?”

When Sherlock heard the name of the pirate he stepped forward.

“If we take her doesn’t that sent Renard against the Skyfall?”

“We can sneak her on board. I will have a decoy on the Vauxhall, while we make repairs. If Renard comes back looking for us he will see the decoy and not follow you. I seen the Skyfall sail, I’ve seen how fast her crew works. You can have a week head start. Given the speed of your ship and the efficiency of your crew that will give you more than enough time to reach England before he could catch you. In British waters, he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Is the pardons connected to this passenger?” Q asked.

“No, but I am sure that if you do this, you will get the Letter and the pardons without having to see your brother or mother at all.” Mallory whispered.

Alec and James looked at each other, a silent communication between their eyes not even Q could understand. Finally, Alec rolled his eyes and James nodded. Sherlock stepped forward and spoke.

“No captain, you need to chase down the Electra, we need to capture Renard and find out what this key is that he has.”

“Mr. Holmes, as I have repeatedly told your brother, you do not tell me what to do on my own ship.” Turning back to Mallory, James said, “Get her dressed in breeches and a smock. She is allowed two dresses, cotton, this is a pirate ship not a bloody costume ball. No trunks, no frills, just her bare essentials. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Tanner will accompany her as her protection.”

Alec laughed. “We’re not that damn desperate to rape some old hag from the royal court.”

Tanner and Watson shared a quick glance.

“I will accompany her too.” Watson said, “She will require two gentlemen to watch over her.”

“John, you’re going to be helping me, you won’t have time for this folly.” Sherlock said. Watson turned and glared at the bruised man.

“Bring her over as quickly as possible, we sail in an hour.” Bond ordered. “I want your long boats to pull us out of here. Have you sent news back to Montego?”

“I sent runners as we were rowing over here. It will be two days before I can expect help from the British navy.”

“That will be two days you are vulnerable to attack from Renard.”

“Don’t make me think you care Captain Bond.”

The pirate smiled at the British captain.


	10. New Friends

New Friends

Bond looked over at the Vauxhall, a woman in a bright yellow dress and a parasol was standing on the poop deck watching as the long boats were lowered into the water.

“Damn that bastard Mallory, I told him to disguise her.”

Four boats rowed over from the damaged ship to the Skyfall. As they approached, ropes were made ready for the small boats to pull the larger ship out of the small bay. Normally, the Skyfall crew would row themselves out, but Bond was willing to strain the backs of the Vauxhall crew if he was going to play nursemaid to some old woman from the royal court.

The third boat carried Tanner, Watson, and seven sailors. It paused beside the hull of the Skyfall and Tanner dressed in civilian clothing, grabbed the dangling rope ladder, climbing up the old frayed thing. Three carpet bags were tossed up. A young man started up the ladder, as Alec leaned over watching the men leave their boat.

“Hurry up damn you all. We need to be out of here with in twenty minutes.” Alec shouted down. “Bond’s pissed as hell, Mallory didn’t dress that winch as he told him too.” Alec pointed over to the Vauxhall.

Just then the rope ladder snapped and half the support slipped. The boy lost his grip and swung out away from the ladder, only holding on by one hand, his body slamming into the side of the hull. Alec quickly reached down and grabbed the wrist of the boy’s flailing free arm and pulled hard. The boy flew up and landed on his back hard on the deck. Knocking the air from his lungs.

“You fucking idiot, haven’t you ever climbed a ladder before!” Alec stood over the body, looking down into big brown eyes, a small round face and smooth red lips. Her hair had been braided and pulled under her hat was now lose and spread across the deck. “Shite!”

Tanner rushed to help Molly off the deck as Watson climbed the broken ladder. “Is she all right?” Watson asked Tanner.

“Yes, yes I’m fine just a little frightened.” Molly Hooper stood up, her bare feet on the warm wooden deck. “No sir that wasn’t the first time I’ve ever climbed a rope ladder. But that was the first time one broke with me.” She was tiny next to the blonde Russian. He was six inches taller than her, and twice as broad in the shoulders. He had just thrown her up onto the deck one handed, like a rag doll. She rubbed her shoulder.

“Fucking hell,” Alec hissed out looking down at the young woman.

“Mr. Trevelyan, if you please!” Tanner glared at the tall man.

The Russian looked around, then realized what he had been saying. “Sorry, you weren’t what we were expecting.” He looked back down at the woman, then smiled. “Toad, take them down to the ward room.”

The young man led the three passengers down to stairs to the ward room as Alec rushed up to the wheel deck and beside James.

“Did you see what they brought on board?” Alec asked.

“Mallory is better at deception than I thought. Look.” He handed the spyglass to Alec. He looked over at the Vauxhall, the person in the yellow dress was pale and thin. Very feminine in appearance but obviously uncomfortable. “The poor midshipman isn’t going to live this one down for a long time. Hope he’ll like the attention he’ll get later.”

*****

The three people followed Robert into the ward room. Sherlock was sitting at the table talking to his brother. As Molly stepped in, the two Holmes boys stood.

“Welcome,” Q said stepping around the table, slightly bowing to her. “Quincy Holmes, as your service miss. This is my brother Sherlock. Please do not worry, you are completely safe here.”

She nodded and smiled at the young man, then turning and seeing his older brother, Molly blushed and looked away quickly. She had never seen such a strikingly handsome man before. Granted, the swearing, tall brute on deck was good looking, but this man appeared ethereal.

Watson caught the bright blush on Molly’s face and recognized it. It wasn’t the first time Sherlock had left women and some men speechless by his good looks. John rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Miss Hooper, you will be sleeping in the middle cabin over there. John and Mr. Tanner, you will bunk with the crew.” The two men nodded.

“No, John can stay in my cabin,” Sherlock interrupted his brother. “He can sleep in the hammock and I’ll take the bunk.”

“I’ll sleep with the crew,” the doctor said. He picked up Molly’s carpet bag and took it into her cabin. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“John, when are you . . .”

“Sherlock don’t.” Q said softly. “Let him be.”

*****

Twelve hours later, Skyfall had left Jamaica, sailing away leaving the damage Vauxhall alone on the sandbar. Alec was on watch, but James stayed on the wheel deck with him. Together they watched as the big ship sailed into the darkness heading north east.

“She’ll have to have an escort whenever she leaves the ward room, James.” Alec said. James was ignoring him. “Either Tanner or Watson will have to be with her. Maybe I should take a shift too. What do you think?”

“Let the arse get the shite beat out of him. All the trouble he’s brought to my ship?”

“What? Who?”

James looked up at this friend. “Who were you talking about?”

“Miss Hooper, who the hell are you talking about?”

“Bollocks, Q’s git of a brother.” The two men laughed.

“So Q is still upset and not letting you near him?” James eyes narrowed at Alec. “Remember, the cabin next door. I do hear quite a bit of your, ah, conversations.”

“Sorry. We do get excited in our discussions.” James smiled again at his friend.

“He really does need someone to talk too, you know. He kind of isolated here.”

“What do you mean?”

“The men accept him, but he’s your . . . your companion. They don’t include him. Haven’t you noticed, he rarely talks to anyone but you and me? He spends more time teaching Rory, than he does doing anything else. He is lonely, and now his brother’s hurt him terrible and he doesn’t have anyone to talk to.”

“He’s got me.”

“He is trying to decide his priorities, and you are one of them. How can he get his shite in order if you are putting everything out of order?” James nodded. He understood.

He head down the stairs and stepped into the ward room. John, Tanner and Q were playing cards while Sherlock sat at the end of the table watching.

“Miss Hooper asleep?” the captain asked.

“Hours ago,” Q answered. James nodded and pulled the cards from Q’s hands, laying them down on the table. Slipping his hand under Q’s arm, he lifted the young man up and pulled him into their cabin, closing the door.

Watson turned to look at Sherlock, who just rolled his eyes.

*****

James led Q to the chair in the room and sat the man down. Then he kneeled between the young man’s legs, looking up into his face. Confusion clouded Q’s face as his pulse started to climb.

“Alright, let’s work through this together. Your brother is alive and your family wants you back. I love you and will be here regardless of what you decide to do. Do you want to return to them or stay away?”

Q’s brow creased and a pout formed on his lips. He seemed lost in thought. James decided to cut to the chase.

“Do you want to leave the Skyfall and me?” His heart skipped a beat, wanting to believe there was no way Q would leave him. Q quickly shook his head. James smiled at him and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss to the young man’s lips.

“Do you want to see your family again? Do you forgive them?”

“I don’t know. I miss the idea of a family. I really want to believe we can be normal but then I remember what they did. Using me to save you. Keeping us apart for all those years. How can I forgive them? It almost killed me, remember?” Q’s chest began to ache.

“I remember how you were when I finally found you. I will not let anyone hurt you like that again.” James’ fingers ghosted over Q’s face.

“Oh James, I just want us to be happy. I don’t want any more vindictive comments and cruel intentions. I want to put all that behind us.”

“If you want to see them, I will be at your side. I will protect you. If you want to help Sherlock after we are done with this Hooper thing, then we will help him. If you choose to never speak or see them again, I will take you so far away, to some place where no one has ever heard of your family.”

Q smiled at James and wrapped his arms around the man. He twisted his face so he could kiss James’ lips. The older man letting the younger dictate the speed and depth of the kiss. Q’s tongue lightly requesting and then gaining entrance into James’ mouth. Tasting and caressing the other’s tongue with his. Warmth filled Q’s limbs as he hugged his older lover.

James stood up, pull Q into an embrace. Holding the man tight to his chest. “Please Q, it’s been too long. I miss you. Please let me make love to you tonight. Give yourself to me.” His voice deep and sensual.

Q couldn’t speak, he just quickly sucked air into his lung and nodded yes. James’ fingers traveled over the cotton shirt to the hem, pulling the fabric over Q’s head. He leaned forward and captured Q’s lips with his and started kissing and nipping at the young man’s skin. Moving slowly over his body, biting at his shoulder, lapping at the boy’s nipples. Setting the boy’s skin on fire.

Q moaned as James moved down his body. Opening the young man’s breeches, James knelt, taking Q’s half hard cock into his mouth. Sucking on it gently, bring it to life. Letting it slip from his mouth he took Q’s bollocks in his mouth pulling and sucking, as his teeth softly grazed over them. Q’s knees buckled and the young man reached for James’ shoulders to catch himself.

“James please, now, take me now.” Q gasped.

James stood picking the man up and carried him to the oversize bunk he had built in his cabin. Pulling the rest of their clothes off, James joined Q on the bunk. Reaching for the small bottle of oil, James let his fingers glance over Q’s hole, just teasing the entrance, causing Q to curse. “James, please fuck me now!” he groaned.

James laughed and rolled Q over to his stomach. He pushed his palm down between Q’s shoulder blades, trapping him down to the mattress, then he slowly pushed one finger into his lover. Q tried to lift himself to push back, but James wouldn’t let him move.

“No just let me. Let me do everything and give you everything.”

“James! Please, just fuck me!”

“No,” he leaned up and kissed the small of Q’s back, letting his finger slide back into his lover, then out again. Slowly, gently, giving Q the depth he desired, but just not enough yet. After several minutes, James added a second finger, only to hear Q moan in relief.

Finally after minutes of teasing and torture, James oiled up his hard leaking cock and slipped into his lover. Q lifted his hips as high as he could, as his shoulders were pinned to the bunk. Q could not rock back onto James’ cock, so depth and speed were completely up to James’ whim. The younger man moaned and begged until James reached under his body and grabbed Q’s hard length.

“Let me feel you Q. Let me feel you come.” The boy melted at the sound of his lover’s command and curled his spine to get more friction on his cock from James’ hand. Within minutes, he was coming across the sheets and yelling into the pillow.

The spasm encasing James’ cock was exquisite. The heat and pressure, everything he had come to love about making love to Q. The man came immediately, pumping himself deep into Q’s body. Later, after he gently pulled out, he took Q in his arms and kissed his forehead.

“Whatever you want Q, whatever I can give you. Just don’t turn away from me again.”

Q nodded and moved into James’ arms. The man pulled him close. Together, sleep took them quickly.


	11. Plans and Diversions

Plans and Diversions

Lady Em sat in private rooms waiting for her eldest. The elegant rooms of royal blue and ivory complemented her bright inquisitive eyes, making her even more imposing. Her square pale face and determined glare humbled everyone from royal to commoner. From this small velvet settee, the five foot one woman ruled her world.

The foot man poured the tea and bowed as he offered her the cup. The gilded doors opened and admitted Lord Holmes, her son. She nodded to the servant and the man prepared a second cup for the tall man. Mycroft examined the cake that was to be served with tea, his fingers unconsciously sliding over his tight waist coat and abdomen.

“After your report, son of mine. After your report.” The elderly woman knew exactly what her son was thinking.

The man righted himself and turned to look down his thin nose at his mother. His thin lips pursed and he took his tea from the servant. Sitting on the opposite settee, he gingerly crossed his legs and waited for the man to leave.

When the doors closed and Lady Em and Lord Holmes were alone, she spoke. “Well, tell me what you have learned.”

“We were correct. We have visual verification that Sherlock is alive.” He said in a mild indifferent tone.

She set her cup down hard on the marble table, the china rattling in the saucer. “Tell me.”

“He was seen a month ago in Venezuela, in the company of ex-French patriots. He was in search of a French pirate named Renard. The next report has him in Kingston.”

“Quincy?” She leaned forward on the settee.

“Yes, they have made contact and are now traveling together.” He sipped his tea slowly, drawing out her frustration.

“Go on, go on.”

“He has requested Quincy’s assistance and that of his pirate captain, in tracking down this Renard.”

She leaned back hissing, “Damn, that won’t do. We need them here. Are you sure they are going after this other pirate?”

“Unfortunately, mummy dear, communication with that part of the world is rather slow and drawn out.” He took another sip.

“As is your explanation.”

“I don’t wish to mislead. I have not received any other information other than Bond received the summons from Mallory and set sail two days later. I have not heard if he has made the meeting or what the plans are for the Skyfall.”

A bright smile covered her face and reached her eyes. “Watson is with Mallory, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“I would have enjoyed being a fly on the wall for that meeting. John Watson meeting his dead hero, Sherlock Holmes. How marvelous. How perfect.”

Mycroft allowed himself a smile at the thought. “There may be a small snag in our plans though. There was a woman seen boarding the Vauxhall in Montego, a Mary Margaret Hooper.”

“I know that name, why do I know that name?” She glanced away.

“Her father is Colonel Wallace Hooper, he is stationed in Portoferraio, on Elba.”

“Oh yes, florid man, pompous.”

“Yes are many of our officers, unfortunately.”

“What the devil is she doing there?”

“Her cousin is married to the governor of Montego. She was visiting when the Admiralty requested her return to England. I am unable to ascertain who exactly gave the order. There seems to be some confusion.”

“Will it interfere with our plans?”

“It may delay them a week or so, but I believe this pirate hunt for Renard would be of greater concern.”

“Sherlock wouldn’t talk Quincy in chasing this man, would he?”

“They were close, but I think this Captain Bond would be against such a venture. No profit in it for him.”

She picked up her tea cup and took a sip. Her face twisted in distaste as it had cooled. She rang a small silver bell that had been sitting on the table. “Are we ready for their arrival?”

“I am not expecting them for two more months. But yes everything will be in place before they make any English port.”

The servant entered the room and bowed to the woman. She held her cup out to him, which he took and started to prepare her a second cup.

“I am very pleased Mycroft. Well done.” He allowed himself a small smile. “You may have a slice of cake now.”

*****

The noon day sun was hot and bright. It was making the deck of the Skyfall painful to walk across barefoot. Q stood in the shadow of the sails on the slightly cooler planks watching out over the ship. Over the last two years, he had learned enough from James and Alec to take a watch during the day. Q’s watch was ten to two, the noon day watch, after Dalton. James would follow Q for four hours, then Alec.

By noon the ship was buzzing as the crew finally discovered the presences of Miss Hooper on board. Very few had seen her when she was dressed as a boy, but just as Q came on duty, Tanner and Molly decided to walk around the deck for a half hour. She wore a plain simple dress. The ship was alive now with speculation.

Alec and James stood at the aft of the poop deck, watching Q and the rest of the crew.

“You’re going to have to say something to them you know.” Alec said in a half voice.

“Well, yes, but what? How much should they know? If they find out she is an officer’s daughter who knows what they’ll do. If they find out we’re doing this for the admiralty then there will surely be a mutiny. I don’t even dare mention the pardons, in case it’s another of Mycroft’s tricks. What do I tell them?”

Alec shrugged trying to think of something. The high pitch whistle of the spotter carried over the deck. Q, James and Alec looked up into the rigging seeing the young man pointing off the port side.

“Sails, seven o’clock. Coming fast.”

James stepped forward and picked up the spyglass from the chart table. Q squinted through his spectacles.

“French or English?” Q asked.

“Neither, Spanish.”

“Shite,” Q said. “Forty-five degrees to starboard.” The boatswain spun the wheel to the right, and watched the compass.

“Q, what are you doing?” James asked.

“We’re going to make a big wide circle and come in behind them. I don’t want to meet a Spanish ship in a skirmish.” He turned and spoke to the boatswain, “maintain the turn. Robert!” he shouted. “Adjust the canvas for an opposite wind.” He turned back to James and Alec. “We have a British Naval officer and a woman on board. Do you really want to engage the Spanish?”

“I’m sure their still pissed about the four gold ships off Brazil. If they can’t have the gold back, they’ll take your head on a pike.” Alec smiled at James.

“Oh fuck off.” The three men laughed.

*****

Tanner and Watson sat on either side of Molly as they ate their lunch of cold cured meats and cheese. Sherlock sat opposite them picking at the food on his plate, as Rory walked into the ward room carrying a pitcher of ale. He set it down hard on the table sloshing the spirits across the wooden surface.

The small boy’s eyes flashed up at the angry men, then he looked at Molly. She had a small smirk on her face, when their eyes met, she winked at him. Rory’s concern vanished and smiled back, ignoring the men.

“So tell me, Mr. Holmes, why are you so eager to meet the pirate, Renard?” Molly asked, looking up at the man across from her. She tried to look more seductive, flapping her eyelashes at him, but he didn’t even acknowledge her. Embarrassing her by his silence.

“Sherlock, it’s polite to answer the young lady, you arse.” John said without looking up from his food. “Sorry about that Molly, he just brings it out in me.”

“No offence,” she blushed. “I just thought a little conversation during lunch would be nice.”

“Boring.” Sherlock huffed.

John slammed his cutlery to the table and glared at the dark haired man. Sherlock looked at his one time friend, then shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

“Yes, Miss. Hooper, I have been attempting and frankly succeeding in dismantling an international criminal network of one James Moriarty.” John huffed and grabbed his tankard to drink. “I have been working on this endeavor for two year now, alone. I brought down a blackmail ring in Berlin that was convincing various important people in the government that they were killers. The blackmailer had convinced each man that he himself was a serial killer and responsible for a series of ghastly murders in the area. Next, I traveled to Cairo and saved the military governor of the area from insanity. He believed he was being pursued by a mummy of all things. Later, I aided the . . . .”

“Sherlock, she asked about Renard.” John said through clenched teeth.

“I was in a tavern in Venezuela, when I overheard two former officers of Napoleon’s Great Army. They mentioned Moriarty and Renard. I convinced them I was sympathetic to their cause and was willing to help. I learned from them that Renard had the key to England’s demise. That he was to bring that key to Moriarty.”

“What is the key?” Molly asked enthralled with Sherlock’s story.

“Very good, Miss. Hooper. An intelligent question.”

Molly smiled and blushed.

“I don’t know. But it must be very important.”

Tanner leaned back in his chair and looked over at Sherlock. “If Renard has this valuable key, then why did he attack our ship? Wouldn’t he make a bee line to this Moriarty instead of engaging the British Navy? He was trying to sink us in shallow water, not board us, like normal pirates.”

“He was trying to drive the crew off the ship. He wanted you separated.” Sherlock mused.

“Maybe the key was on the ship and Renard still doesn’t have it” Molly said. The three men quickly looked back and forth at each other. The key, Renard was to have the key, and Mallory had told them that Mary Margaret Hooper was being pursued by Renard for reasons unknown.

Sherlock set his whole attention on the small woman. _‘Young, earlier twenties, unmarried, mother dead, father Army officer, raised in the army, travel overseas, limited social graces being raise by a widowed father in the military. Never been courted. Bright, but not educated, home schooled no formal education. Unafraid of men, male friends, few if any female friends.’_ Sherlock leaned back in his chair.

“So Miss. Molly Hooper, how are you going to bring about the fall of England?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finished Possession, so now I can concentrate on this story. Comments welcome.


	12. Scaramanga

Scaramanga

The Spanish ship dogged the Skyfall through the day. James had order the American flag to be raised. The States were neutral to the European conflict and pirates had hoped the flag with its fifteen stars and fifteen stripes would deter the ship from coming any closer, but it didn’t. The three men stood on the wheel deck of the Skyfall, watching as the other ship closed the distance. All the maneuvering Q had tried, failed as the wind was in the other ship’s favor. As the sun set behind the Spanish vessel, the two ships were within half a mile of each other.

“Well? Is it time to load the cannons?” Alec asked as James watched the ship disappear into the darkness.

“Yes, let’s not get caught in the middle of night unprepared.” James said, then turning to the quarter deck, he shouted. “Dalton!”

“Q go down to the ward room and tell everyone to dowse the lights and stay in their cabins. Put that woman on the floor behind her bunk to keep her safe.” Alec said to the young man.

Q dashed down the ladder as Dalton stepped up onto the poop deck. Q rushed into the ward room to see Watson and Tanner playing cards again. Sherlock was pacing around the room.

“Well, is your captain going to let me leave this room today?” Sherlock asked.

Q didn’t acknowledge his question. “We may be attacked during the night.”

“Renard?” Sherlock asked.

“No, a Spanish vessel that has been following us since noon. All lights have to be dowsed. And the captain wants you to be in your cabins. Where is Molly?”

“She’s reading in her cabin.” John said standing up. “I’m a soldier, I can help if there is to be fighting.”

“Thank you, John,” Q said. He went and knocked on Molly’s door. “Molly, it’s Quincy, I need to talk to you.”

She opened her door and look up at the young man.

“I don’t want you to worry but there is a chance we may be attacked. We need to prepare. All lights out. And I want you hide on the floor of your cabin as close to your bunk as you can get.”

“Quincy, the best thing would be for Sherlock to sit in there with her and a pistol. He can shoot, don’t worry. I taught him.” John said. “Tanner and I should join in the fight, defending the ship.”

“John, I agree, but I’m going to want you to stay here in this room and defend the ship and her from here. Please.” Q whispered to the soldier. The man took a quick glance at Molly then nodded his head.

“Alright. Tanner and I will stay here.”

Tanner was angry. “No, I will be on deck. I’m a sailor, not a bloody nurse maid.”

“Sir, your duty is to protect Miss. Hooper.” John barked back.

“Get some pistols from Robert. And pray nothing happens tonight.”

*****

The crew of the Arma de Oro watched as the pirate ship slipped into the shadows of night. They recognized it as the ship that had been raiding the coast of Brazil months ago. It was claimed the pirates had taken the treasure from four different gold ships. The pirate captain had a price on his head. A reward large enough to push the small ship to chase the heavily armed Skyfall.

Captain Scaramanga just wanted revenge. His watery blue eyes stared out over the water at the Skyfall. He hated this British pirate and the honor of his county was at stake. The sea worn captain told his crew they could split the bounty inside the pirate ship once it was taken. He didn’t believe any of the gold was left, but he didn’t tell his crew that. He wanted them in a violent mood when they finally attack.

James stood with Alec on the wheel deck, his hands were on the polished wheel of his ship. They were just past Haiti and sailing towards the Turks and Caicos Islands. If they were attacked here, the crew may not be able to get the ship to a friendly port safely. James looked over at Q as the young man stood at the rail looking into the night.

It was a cloudless night and the waxing moon was bright. It bathed the sea in light that washed out the colors to shades of gray. Even with the lights extinguished on the Skyfall the ship was still visible to the Arma de Oro. There was no way that Bond could sneak off in the night and protect his ship.

“Both decks loaded with ball, James.” Alec whispered to his best friend. “The crew is ready if something starts.”

*****

Watson sat at the table in the ward room. The room was pitch black and the only light coming in was the reflected moon light off the water, through the windows. The ship was eerily quiet with just the sound of the timbers groaning under sails. Tanner sat at the far end of the table away from Watson. Tanner was closer to the door and Watson sat near Molly’s cabin. Neither man said a word.

Molly’s door opened and Sherlock stepped out. He quickly walked over to John and pull the chair out. The sound of the chair legs scrapping across the wooden floor was loud in the silence of the ship. He quickly sat down next to his one time friend.

“Shite Sherlock, you’re supposed to stay in there with her.” John whispered hoarsely at the man.

“Face it John, if we are boarded, it won’t matter where I’m sitting. We will probably die. I would rather die beside you.” Sherlock was glad for the darkness, so John could not see his face.

“Sherlock, this is not a good time for this.”

“No time ever is.”

“If you didn’t want to die alone, then why did you leave me? Why did you run off on your adventure leaving me to grieve for you?”

“Does it really matter now?” Sherlock’s heart began to race listening to John’s voice. A voice he had wanted to hear for months now.

“I nearly killed your brother. I nearly killed myself. Yes, it fucking matters, why?!”

“Moriarty wanted me dead, he discredited me and the finally act was my suicide. If I hadn’t jumped, he had a sniper waiting for you on the opposite side of the bridge.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that.” But he did believe. Moriarty was a monster who would use anyone to harm Sherlock.

“John please, can’t we just move on? Go back to who we were before?” Sherlock moved forward his leg brushing up against John’s. In the darkness, he couldn’t see John’s face, but he could feel the man’s breath pass over this face. The darkness gave Sherlock courage. He lifted his hand to reach for John’s face.

“What friends, flat mates, detective and assistant? No we will not go back to the way we were. You ended that when you stepped off that bridge! I don’t want to go back! I don’t want to hurt like that again!” Sherlock pulled his hand back before he could touch the man’s face.

“John please, I need you. I need your help. Your strength.” Sherlock wanted more than friendship, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“You just spent two years proving you didn’t need me. Don’t lie to me now.”

The back of Sherlock’s hand lightly grazed of the top of John’s thigh. “What do you want me to do to prove I’m sorry?”

“Nothing Sherlock, there is no way you can ever prove you’re sorry to me.”

The ship rocked to the right as the first volley from the Arma de Oro cut through the Skyfall. The pirates immediately returned fire. The ship shook more violently as the cannons fired and screams of injured crew could be heard.

A second round of cannon balls hit the port side of the Skyfall, with balls cutting through the hull and crashing into the ward room where the three men were sitting. Molly’s scream could be heard as Tanner was knocked from his seat by flying debris. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and pulled him down to the deck. He covered John’s body as a beam came crashing down to the table.

The Spanish ship fired again, hitting mid deck. Skyfall fired two more volleys, one from each gun deck. Then silence.

*****

“Cap’t she pulling away!” Robert called from the quarter deck. Alec used the spyglass to read the name of the ship as it turned hard to port and out of range for the guns.

“They know their out gunned. Their turning away.” Alec said.

Q stepped close behind James who was still steering the ship. The young man laid his forehead between James’ shoulder blades. James took a deep breath feeling the man behind him.

“Q, get Watson and see if there are any injured crew that need treatment.”

Q leaned back and started to walk to the stairs then he stopped and turned back to James. He never touched James when there was crew around, but tonight in the darkness on the wheel deck, Q let his fingers slide down the side of James’ face. The older man nodded to him and Q left to do as his captain ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be delayed. I'm having to rewrite the next chapter.


	13. Dealing with the Aftermath

Dealing with the Aftermath

Molly crawled out from under the debris of broken timbers and destroyed furniture. The cannon ball had passed through the bulkhead crashing into the support beams in the ward room. Her ears roared from the noise, her limbs trembled from the adrenaline running through her veins. She shivered as she stood and moved slowly over the fallen planks and stepped into the remains of the ward room. She could see John’s and Sherlock’s legs under a large timber.

“John!?”

“We’re okay. Don’t try and move that beam by yourself. Where is Tanner?” John shouted. “Sherlock,” he whispered, “Sherlock? Are you alright?” The tall man moaned and shifted, trapped.

She looked around and saw the crumpled form of Tanner. Blood covered his face and clothes. She lifted her skirts and moved to the fallen sailor. When Q and several crew members stepped into the wreckage that was the ward room, Molly was sitting on the floor, with Bill Tanner’s head resting in her lap. His leg was twist awkwardly and obviously broken.

“Where’s Sherlock?” Q asked as he stepped into the room.

“They’re over there,” she nodded to the pile of debris and a large beam of wood laying across the table and two bodies. Q rushed climbing over broken furniture and splintered timber.

“Sherlock!”

“I’m fine Quincy just get this timber off us.” Sherlock’s body laid over the top of John’s. The soldier’s face buried in the larger man’s throat. “John are you hurt?” Sherlock whispered to the man trapped under him.

“Yes, I’m being crushed by a great big idiot!”

Quincy laughed when he heard the doctor. The sailors braced the ceiling before attempting to move the beam. Once it was off, John scooted rapidly out from under Sherlock. The latter slow to move. The two men sat on the floor briefly staring at each other before Quincy spoke.

“John, Bill’s broken his leg. I don’t know how to set it. We’re going to need the expertise of a real doctor here.”

“Oh, oh yes. Just give me a . . . okay, let’s take a look at it. Get me two braces, foot long each and some rope or bandages.” One of the crew ran to retrieve the order. Bill Tanner’s face was pale and sweating. He kept looking up into Molly’s eyes as she whispered reassurances to him.

“John, there are numerous sailors hurt, can you help me?”

“You their only doctor?”

“Closest thing they’ve got. I really could use the help.”

“Alright.”

Sherlock pulled himself from the floor, he started to walk over to John and Quincy tending Tanner when he felt dizzy and had to grab the table to stop from falling.

“Sherlock!” Molly gasped. Quincy looked up to see his brother ghastly white and pale. Quincy reached out for his brother and wrapped his hand around the man’s shoulders. Sherlock tensed and clenched his jaw. Quincy pulled his arm away from his brother. It felt warm and wet, he looked down seeing his arm bloody. He quickly turned his brother around to see blood seeping through the man’s shirt. He lifted Sherlock’s shirt to see several deep gashes that were going to need stitches.

John looked up from Tanner’s leg to see the bloody mess of Sherlock’s back. Fear suddenly pumped through the hardened doctor.

“Sherlock!” John shouted.

“It’s okay John,” Quincy said. “I can do stitches, not a problem there. But he is loss a lot of blood. He needs to lie down and get some pressure on this.”

Some of the crew cleared the ward room of debris. After Tanner’s leg was set, several sailors carried him to the sick bay at the front of the ship. Sherlock was resting on his stomach across a table, while Quincy stitched his brother’s wounds closed. John started treating any sailor that came into the sick bay. Molly helped John where she could. The doctor was amazed at how calm she seemed as she wiped blood from men’s faces and washed wounds clean.

“Remember, daughter of the Regiment. My father’s orderly taught me what to do. We were in India during the last uprising.”

“Remarkable. Well, I’m impressed.” He smiled at her and she blushed. She smiled brightly and went to tend to another sailor.

*****

“We were lucky, you know that?” James said to Alec as they walked through the decks surveying the damage.

“I’m not sure why they quit so quickly. You would have thought they would be more assertive.”

“I’m just glad they didn’t have the stomach for a fight.” The two men walked out the remains of the ward room. Alec grabbed a tipped over chair and righted it.

Alec and James walked through the gun deck, checking the cannons, before they walked into the sick bay. James asked about the injured sailors as Alec turned his attention to Molly. He watched Molly follow the doctor around the room. Her pale green dress was dirty and torn. Her hair had fallen out of her combs and a long strand fell down the side of her cheek, lightly resting on the top of her shoulder. Molly’s cheeks were flushed but she didn’t seem scared or nervous. She worked quickly helping the doctor tend to the injured. Alec was amazed as he watched the young woman.

“Where’s Q?” James shouted at John.

“Over here.” Q shouted from behind a curtained off area. The doctor looked over at the closed curtain. He wanted to be in there checking on his friend but then again, he didn’t. He was confused. He was so angry at Sherlock, it hurt his very insides, each time he looked at him. The anger and grief bubbling to the surface, then in the next breath he wanted to be beside Sherlock’s side again. Having a camaraderie he hadn’t known since the army.

John thought back to their brief conversation just before the cannon balls ripped through the side of the ship. Sherlock had been so close to him. Whispering in his ear, he could feel the man’s breath over his skin. The thought shot an electrical charge up the man’s spine. Then when the blast hit and Sherlock wrapped his arms around the doctor, all John could think was he will lose him again. Sherlock would disappear again. He wanted to scream and steal Sherlock away.

He knew this wasn’t good. He should hate Sherlock for what he put the doctor through; but when he saw Sherlock pale and shaking from his injuries, John almost abandoned his patient, Tanner to rush to his friend’s side. He just wanted Quincy to come out and tell him everything was fine so he could go back to hating Sherlock.

James stepped over injured sailors, just as Q stepped out from behind the curtain.

“Well?” James asked.

“The ward room is the worst damage. There’s a hole in the port side, the cabins on that side were destroyed. And the beams holding up the wheel deck have been compromised. We are going to have to find a port to pull into to find timber to replace it.” Q said.

“What about injures?”

“Tanner and Sherlock were the worst injured, broken leg and lacerated back, maybe broken ribs. Everyone else appears to minor. Just stitches and bandages. One concussion.” John explained as he interrupted the conversation between the captain and Q.

“Thank you doctor.” James looked around the room. “We can make the British Virgin Isles in four days.”

“That should be okay,” Q answered. “But what about the British Navy. Aren’t we still wanted pirates?”

“Well, I didn’t say it was going to be easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on this during Spring Break in not easy. To many distractions. I am planning on upping the rating because I am missing the smut. Hope you all don't mind.


	14. Storytelling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I need to make the disclaimer that I own nothing of the characters of these stories. Please enjoy and know the only payment I receive is your comments and kudos. Thank you.

Storytelling

It was early the next morning when Molly finally stepped out of the sick bay and up onto the quarter deck. She was bone tired having not slept all night, helping John throughout. Her stomach was tight and her head hurt. She looked down at her dress, it was torn and dirty. She wiped her hand down front of it. She frowned, it was hopeless; the dress was a complete loss. She collapsed on a hatched cover and rested her head in her hands.

Sherlock stepped up on the quarter deck and looked around. The sound of hammers nailing new planks to damaged hulls could be heard throughout the ship. Q was busy with the port side railing, trying to rebuild the attachment for the ratlines. Sherlock went over and picked up a hammer to help his brother.

John stepped up on the deck and looked around. He saw Sherlock but turned away when the man raised his hand to wave at John. The doctor sat down beside Molly. “Molly, you did a great job last night. Thank you.”

“No, you did all the work. We are lucky you were here.” She smiled at the doctor, who returned her smile causing her to blush and duck her face away. John laughed.

“You’ve seen men half naked and bleeding. And a simple smile makes you blush?” John laughed again. He was tired and beginning to act silly.

“John, I just . . .” she blushed again.

Sherlock walked over to them and smiled at John. The doctor looked up into Sherlock’s face. John hardened his face and cursed under his breath. John stood and looked down at Molly, “I’m sorry dear, I’m needed elsewhere.” Sherlock reached out, but the look John gave him, made the tall man pull his hand back. He started to open his mouth, but John glared at him, then disappeared down the ladder to the lower the decks.

“Why is John so angry at you?”

“He doesn’t understand why I did what I did.” Sherlock answered her.

“Doesn’t everyone? I mean, Quincy is furious with you too. I only heard him speak to you when he found you injured. Is that what it’s going to take for John to forgive you? Getting yourself shot or something?”

The tall man huffed, “I certainly hope not.”

“Have you thought about just apologizing?”

“Apologizing? To whom?” Sherlock asked confused.

“John, you silly. Maybe he just wants to know you’re sorry so he can forgive you.”

“But I’m not sorry. What I did saved lives, including John’s.”

“It also hurt the people who cared for you. John, your brother, I’m sure your mother was quite upset.”

“You obviously have never met Lady Em.” Sherlock said sitting down next to her.

“Sherlock, she can’t be all that horrible.” Molly laughed softly.

“You’ve met me, think what the woman who would be my mother would be like.”

*****

Alec watch as Q’s older brother talk to the small woman. He kept a wary eye on the crew. They were paying attention to her, leering as she passed. He was trying to decide the best way to handle the situation of having a woman like Molly on board for a twelve week cruise to England. A British Naval ship had discipline on it. The pirate ship just had fear of captain and the first officer to keep the men in line. He stood there watching them wondering if that was going to be enough.

*****

Molly stood and picked up the water bucket and a ladle. She wondered over to Q and offered the men helping him a sip of water. Sherlock went back to join them, but Q barely looked at him, and didn’t talk to him.

“How goes the repairs?” Molly asked noticing the tension between the two brothers.

“Long and slow.” Q said wiping his brow. As she moved to offer Sherlock a drink, one of the newer pirates spit right in front of Molly and Sherlock. The glob of mucus landing right on the toe of Sherlock’s boot. The tall man stopped and glared at the pirate.

“Sir, an apology.”

‘ _Now he understands apologies,’_ Molly thought. The sailor who was just an inch or two shorter than Sherlock smirked up at him.

“Naw, I doesn’t think so, you poncy arse.” The man hissed out of a mouth missing half its teeth. “I thinks I just spit again.” He made the disgusting sound of collecting more spittle, when Sherlock quickly snapped the heal of his right palm into the man’s nose. The gratifying sound of the man’s nose breaking made Sherlock smile. The man’s head popped back, blood gushing from his damaged nose. “You’s bastard!” The pirate threw himself at Sherlock, knocking Molly down in the process. Q took a step but one of the pirates grabbed his arm and nodded for him to not interfere.

The doctor stepped back up on the deck just as the fight broke out. John looked up knowing exacting who was to blame. Sherlock and the pirate wrestled on the deck as Molly tried to push herself away from them. John leaped over the hatch cover and dove into the fight with Sherlock and the man. Alec raced down the ladder.

As John pulled the sailor off his friend, more sailors joined in and started punching both the dark haired man and the blonde doctor. Two pirates grabbed Molly and pulled her to her feet. One of the men quickly grabbed her hair and shoved their faces together, not kissing but attacking her mouth. Molly tried to scream only for the man to plunge his tongue down her throat. The second man stood behind her, grabbed her shoulders in his filthy hands, spinning her around. He leaned down and bit into her neck, causing her to scream. His hands tearing her dress at the shoulder.

Two sailors tried to pull John away from the fight as men were lifting Sherlock to his feet. With his arms restrained, Sherlock was punched over and over again by the man who had spat at him. John pulled his arms forward and twisted, throwing the men who were trying to hold him off balance. They fell forward and crashed into the man punching Sherlock. John lunged at one of the men holding Sherlock’s arms, freeing it for Sherlock to defend himself.

Alec ran across the deck as soon as Molly screamed, watching as the men tore at her cotton sleeves, exposing her pale white skin. He pulled the man biting at her neck, off of her and threw him across the deck. His body crumpled as it hits the standing rigging, the cordage taught and hard. Molly struggles in the grip of the other pirate, as Alec turns on him.

“Trevelyan!” The pirate shouted when he looked up to see the second in command coming at him.

Alec pulled Molly away from the man. She felt so small and light in his powerful grasp. Molly gasped as she was shoved behind the tall Russian. Alec’s fist crashed into the man’s jaw, the man groaned as Alec felt a crunch to the landing. The second pirate collapsed to the deck.

John and Sherlock punched and kicked at the various men attacking them. The doctor’s skilled hands fisted and bruising various faces. Sherlock moving fast with training and practice. Within minutes the tall dark haired man and his blonde friend had dispatched the five other pirates who attacked them. Both victors were laughing and smiling at the exertion and the comradely of fighting.

Seven pirates were collapsed on the deck. Alec stood over them glaring as Sherlock reached out for John’s shoulder to support himself. The dark haired man’s back was bleeding again, and his shirt was staining. Alec pulled Molly into an embrace and looked over the deck at the crowd that had gathered.

“This is Molly. She is my property. The captain of the Vauxhall gave her to the captain and me as a capital prize for saving his ship from Renard. You saw her sister left on the man-a-war. No one is to touch my toy. Am I understood?” He shouted across the deck. The woman looked up at the man who held her tight to his side. She was shaking and scared, her face flushed red, as bruises bloomed on her neck. John and Sherlock stopped smiling.

“Any man who lays a finger on what is mine will taste the whip!” Alec looked down at her, his eyes bright with possession. “You five are on half rations for a week. Another attack on our new doctor will cost you a portion of the prize. The two of you who touched my Molly, ten lashes. Take ‘em below and chain them.”

He turned pulling Molly with him to his cabin. John stepped forward to chase after him when Sherlock reach out took hold of his arm.

“John, please.”

“No, Sherlock, you’re a bastard, you will always be a bastard.” John rush after Trevelyan and Molly.

*****

Alec pulled Molly into the ward room and headed towards his cabin. When she realized where he was going, she pulled back hard on his grip.

“No, no I won’t go! Let go of me!”

“Shut up and follow me!” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into the cabin, slamming the door. “Just shut up and listen to me!”

She saw a porcelain pitcher of water and grabbed it. She flung herself in the corner of the small room and held the pitcher up as a weapon.

“I won’t let you take me without a fight. You will regret trying anything with me. I’m make it painful.” She panted at him.

“Oh shut up. Why would I waste my time on a twig like you? Not interested.” He hissed at her. “Don’t you understand, I just convinced the crew not to ever touch you again, you little idiot. They think your mine, they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you now.”

She slowly lowered the pitcher.

“You just have to keep up the act until we reach England. Act like you’re my whore.”

Her eyes flew wide. “YOUR WHAT?!”

“Don’t act so innocent, I heard you were raised in the regiment. You know exactly what I mean.”

“You expect me to sleep with you now?” She raised the pitcher again ready to throw it at the tall man. Alec wanted to laugh at her. She was small and trying to fight off a man twice her size with at porcelain pitcher. She reminded him of a little puffy kitten. Fur and claws, hissing and harmless, needing more than anything to be cuddled and protected.

“No you little idiot, just, just . . . I don’t know, just stay by my side when you leave the ward room. Don’t flirt with Watson or Holmes anymore. And avoid Tanner.”

“You know Tanner won’t go along with this.” She lowered the pitcher again taking a step forward.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll speak to him.” Alec said looking around his cabin, “oh, and you will have to start sleeping in here at night.” She backed up again into the corner, pitcher at the ready. “Stop being a fool. It’ll help the story if you sleep in here. I’ll sleep in the hammock, you can have the bunk.”

“No! I want to stay with John and Sherlock!”

“Don’t be an idiot. They will have to sleep in the small doctor’s quarters in the sick bay. There’s barely enough room for one let alone three. As I said we need to make the crew believe your mine. We’ll share this cabin till we reach England. You have nothing to fear. What would I want with a scrap of nothing like you?” Molly bowed her head, surprised by how bad the words hurt.

*****

John rushed into the ward room, looking around for Molly.

“YOUR WHAT!?” he heard shouted from Trevelyan’s cabin. He went over to pound on the door when Sherlock came into the room, followed by Q.

“John quick, Sherlock’s bleeding again!” Q said helping his brother over to the table. John looked back and forth between the door and his bleeding friend.

“Molly’s in there!” John shouted.

“Don’t worry, Alec won’t hurt her. He is really not as scary as he looks.” Just then the door opened and Trevelyan stepped out of the cabin. John could see Molly standing in the corner holding a pitcher with her head lowered. He could see she was alright, so he went to the bleeding man sitting at the table.

“Pull off you shirt, Sherlock,” Q instructed his brother. Sherlock leaned forward and struggled out of the shirt. The stitches in his back had been pulled during the fight. “Damn it Sherlock that was some of my best work.”

“Don’t worry Quincy, I can fix it. Get me your kit. I’ll sew him back up.” John said pour water into a bowl and dipping a towel into the water. Q left as John started tabbing at the cuts.

“You two can fight well together.” Alec said walking up and looking down at Sherlock’s injuries.

“We have a lot of experience in fights.” John explained as he gently cleaned Sherlock’s back.

“Remember the time Woodley and Williamson?” Sherlock huffed.

John started to laugh. “That was in Coventry, we were asked to follow,” he paused, looking down at Sherlock’s back. He threw the towel down on the table. “Damn it Sherlock, you don’t get to remind me of our past. You don’t get that pleasure.”

Sherlock looked up at Alec, “Sir would you excuse my friend and myself for a moment.” Alec nodded and left the room.

“John, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize my suicide would cause you such distress.”

“You didn’t realize! What the hell did you think it would do?”

“Please John, I underestimated your feelings. I didn’t grasp how important our friendship had been until I didn’t have you there with me. If my absence hurt half as much as your absence from me, please forgive me. I am truly sorry.”

John looked down at the man sitting in front of him. Sherlock’s back was to John, he couldn’t see the turmoil boiling across John’s expression. The hurt and pain in John’s eyes. But those same eyes saw the hunched shoulders of the dark haired man. John watched as Sherlock’s frame collapsed as he apologized to him. The sense of resignation in Sherlock’s body. He also saw the healed scars across Sherlock’s back. Scars that had not been there two years ago. They were knife wounds and whipping scars, there was also a gunshot wound scar high on the shoulder. John’s fingers grazed over it.

“When did this happen?” he asked softly.

“Singapore, nine months ago. Opium den.”

“Were you indulging again?” John felt his stomach lurched.

“No, tracking down a white slaver. He had a house filled with under age prostitutes he had kidnapped from their families.”

“You saved the girls?”

“Fourteen of them, returned them to their homes.”

Q stepped in and set his surgical supplies down on the table. “I think I have everything you need John. Uncle Desmond told me to run my silk through bees wax so it won’t pull on the skin.” He looked up at the two men. He could see the pain in John’s eyes, and the resignation in Sherlock’s.

John sets his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder.

“Just hand me the needle and thread Quincy, I’ll stitch up my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The names Woodley and Williamson are from the Solitary Cyclist by A C Doyle.


	15. Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got rather long, sorry. But I had to write some smut. THanks for the kudos and comments.

Evening

The last rays of the sun blazed across the water as Bond stood beside the wheel watching out over his ship. His crew had been enthusiastic after the fight. Several were laughing at the five men who lost the fight to the army doctor and his poncy skinny arse friend. Repairs were made to the ship as teasing comments had been pass back and forth. Q was laughing with the men and John kept his mouth shut but occasionally smirked and winked at Q.

Bond let his eyes follow the movements of his young lover as the man worked through the day. Now as the sun set, Q was gathering up his tools and clearing the deck of debris. Bond smiled at his lover. He thought of how this intelligent gorgeous young man was his, and his alone. He smiled as he watched Q stretch and walk across the deck to the hatchway. Bond knew Q was going to their cabin to clean up.

He looked up and out across the water. The ship sailed into the east and the darkening sky. Bond let his mind wonder to the days when he found Q at Whitehall and kidnapped him back. The boy was thin and wasting away. Q’s family, more specifically, his brother Mycroft, had coerced Q into giving up his life with Bond and return to England. Q had saved James’ life and gave up his. It almost killed him. Bond had never forgiven the Holmes for what they had done to his sprite and himself. Now he was sailing back to them. His anxiety started to root and grow.

“Rory, get your arse up here.” He shouted out across the deck. The young powder monkey was playing dice with the other monkey, Danny. The boy jumped at the captain’s voice and dashed up the ladder to the wheel deck.

“Yes sir?”

“Get a tray of food and take it to my cabin for Mr. Quincy and me. Now!” The boy ran off as quickly as he could. “Robert! Up here now!”

Bond let the teenager take over for the next watch as he headed down the ladder to his cabin. It was dark now, the ship was sailing quietly into the night. He stepped into the ward room, the damage from the Arma de Oro attack was extensive. Bond winced looking at his once beautiful ship now damaged and broken. He wondered if they should keep sailing east to England or put in to port for a month or two to make proper repairs. He stood looking around the patches in the hull and makeshift braces when he heard the sound of sloshing water.

A smirk crossed James lips, he knew Q was bathing. He stepped to the door of his cabin when Rory walked into the ward room carrying a tray of meat pies and cheese. A large pitcher of ale was on the tray. James took the tray away from the boy, thanking him telling him good night. He kicked the door with his foot, Q opened the door while standing behind it. The young man smiled up at the captain and pulled the door father open.   

He set the tray of food down and looked up at Q. A feral gleam in his eyes. “Good you haven’t started. I wanted to watch.”

Q raised an eyebrow at the statement.

“You wanted to watch me bath?” The young man’s shirt was already removed and he stood wearing nothing but his dirty gray breeches. “Why?”

“Because I like too. I like to watch my sexy young lover bath and get himself ready for me.” James’ voice was deep and hungry. A slight blush graced Q’s cheeks and James wanted to growl at it. After all these years, he could still overwhelm his sprite. “Strip and wash up. I’ll sit here and admire the view.”

The older man sat down at the table and poured himself a tankard of ale. Drinking slowly he gave Q his complete attention. The younger man blushed deeper and step over to the bowl and bucket of water sitting next to the tray of food. Q cocked his head to the side and smiled crookedly. He grabbed one of the small meat pies and quickly ate it before he slowly opened the buttons down the fly of his breeches. James’ eyes followed as each button gave way to the gentle pull.

“I remember an afternoon you helped give me a bath. You spent forever washing my hair.” Q smiled at the other man as he stepped out of the gray cloth and let it pile at his feet. James leaned forward and poured a second tankard and pushed it across the table towards Q.

“I remember the bath you took after the raid on the Spanish ship, the Rata. I took you screaming my name at the top of your lungs. You couldn’t walk the next day could you?”

Q took a sip of the ale. “No, I couldn’t. I loved every minute of it.” He reached for the ladle and poured one scoop of water down his chest. James watched the water flow down the man’s chest and abdomen. Licking his lips as he watched the water pass on either side of Q’s slowly filling cock. The dark curly hair retaining droplets. Q grabbed a flannel and the hard sea soap, rubbing the two together. Then slowly circled the flannel across his skin. Looking down at his own skin and the dirt he was removing, than holding James’ gaze. Q scrubbed hard on his forearms and across his shoulders, James watching the suds travel down the lines of the man’s body. He let the flannel move down his chest to his abdomen then he looked at James, as both his hands reached under his member and cup his bollocks. He rubbed them gently with his soapy hands watching James lick his lips, before the older man looked up into Q’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment then smiled together, breaking out into laughter.

“You dirty old man.” Q teased.

“You minx.”

Q picked up another ladle of water and poured it over himself and rinsed the soap off. His dirty clothes catching the water as it hit the floor. He then went to wash his back, when James stood and said.

“Let me.” The man pulling the flannel from Q’s hand. James’ fingers caressed over Q’s shoulders as the young turned and exposed his back to his lover. James’ hand moved over the muscles in Q’s back and down to the curve of his waist. He used the flannel to follow the movement of his hand and clean the young man. Finally cupping Q plumb and firm arse, James leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “I should make you stay naked for me all the time. Ready for me day and night you little sprite. Ready for me to bury my cock deep inside you.”

Q moaned and leaned back into James chest. The older man’s voice rich and deep, an aphrodisiac to his lover. James picked up the ladle and poured one final scoop of water down Q’s back, watching the water’s progression with hungry eyes.

“You will do what your captain wants you to do tonight, you will be mine to play with and to torment.” Q’s body shook with sound of James’ voice. Q slammed his eyes shut and nodded quickly.

“Yes sir.” He whispered.

“Good step away from the table and put your hands up over your head. Rest your finger tips on the rafter.”

Q reached up lengthening his body to stretch. The ceiling was low in the cabin, but Q still had to raise up on his toes to keep his hands flush with the wooden beam. James walked around the young man appraising his slim body. His fingers starting at Q’s hair line and stroking down the man’s cheek to his jaw line.

“Look at you. You are so beautiful, so perfect. How can I even think of letting you go? All the things I still need to show you.” He let his fingers draw down the man’s throat and paused over Q’s pulse point. He could tell how excited the young man was. “I think I will let my wild imagination take hold and do very wicked things to you.” Q shuddered, biting his lips. James fingers moved lower, just barely brushing over Q’s nipples. The rosy brown skin pebbling and puckering. James let his fingertips drag across Q’s abdomen and over his ribs as James walked around to the back of the man. He lifted his hand and barely touched Q’s skin as he outlined Q’s shoulder blade. “Think of all the things I could do to you. All the pleasure I could give you. He stepped closer and let his lips caress the nape of Q’s neck as his fingers slipped down each vertebra of the boy’s spine. Q arched into the touch and moaned.

“Oh yes, my little sprite. I could do things to you that would make you scream my name again. Hold you down and drive myself deep into you. Feel your tight hot channel around my cock.” James hand moved lower, skimming along Q’s side and down the outside of his thigh. He lightly stroked the skin there while he kissed and nipped at Q’s throat.

Q fought to keep his hands about his head, his fingertips touching the rough wood of the rafter. His legs were trembling and his cock was full and heavy.

“Yes my little sprite. I would have so much fun letting my thoughts run wild with your body.” He moved around to the front of Q’s body, while his hands stroked and squeezed the young man’s arse. James’ lips moved to Q’s mouth and he kissed the man, pushing his tongue in deep. Q moaned. James brought a hand up to their faces and pushed two fingers into Q’s mouth.

“Suck them, get them wet.” His voice deep and gravelly. His other hand still massaged Q’s arse. Q’s tongue swirled around the two fingers, trying to coat the fingers the best he could. His own mouth though was dry from listening to Bond and his deep voice. After a minute he pulled them from Q’s mouth and moved his hand back down to other man’s entrance.

Without any further warning, James slipped a finger into Q. The young man moaned loudly and arched his back, pushing his groin forward and into James’. The captain let his free hand move to the small of Q’s back giving the young man support. He wanted to drop his arms and Q had to fight the ache that now tightened the muscles in his upper arms. James moved his finger around, twisting it just at the entrance, stimulating the nerves just there. Not enough to give Q relief but a constant electrical charge through his body.

James moved his free hand to his own fly and pulled the buttons free. His hard cock popped out from the restricting clothes and pointed erect from his body. He moved his hips forward so his and Q’s cocks could rub together. The sensation of skin on skin, caused Q to moan louder and shake violently.

“Oh God, yes!” he panted.

James growled and took both members in his hand and looked down at them. He spat at the head of his own cock and let the slick mucus slide down both lengths. “I may even think about getting that flogger for you. I’ve heard the same parts of your brain that acknowledges pain also acknowledges pleasure. I could see if I could make you come like that little rent boy in St. Augustine.” He gripped the two cocks and squeezed them together as his finger pumped deeper in and out of Q’s hole. “Yes, I could make you whine for my cock as I make your skin red and hot for my touch. How hard do you think you will get?” He loosened his grip briefly to smear pre-cum over the heads of both cocks. Then he took hold and started fucking into his fist. Pulling Q along with him.

“Your hole is so tight tonight Q. I can barely get my finger into you. Will you let me give you two?”

“Oh please yes, YES!” He shouted as a second spit covered finger slipped in. The two men grunted and moaned as James fucked Q with his finger and stroked both of their cocks in unison. Q’s whole body was alive and shivering as he felt the warmth at the base of his spine spread rapidly. He desperately wanted to drop his hands and wrap his arms around James, but the man had not given him permission to move yet.

“Please James, my hands!”

“NO, KEEP THEM THERE!” James was close. He was feral as he fucked his hand hard, looking at the young man in front of him. James knew Q was close and he was fighting to wait to see the young man crash first through his orgasm. “Fuck you are beautiful like this. So perfect and mine!”

At the sound of James’ deep lust filled voice Q’s control snapped. He shoved his cock forward and his body into James’. His pearly white cum coating James’ hand and belly, just before the older man joined him in ecstasy.

“Yes my sprite, fuck. You are mine and no one will see you like this but me.” He groaned. “You are perfect.”

The young man collapsed forward, resting his head on James’ shoulder. Both men breathing hard. James slowly removed the fingers from Q’s arse, then let his hands move up and gently pull Q’s arms down.

“James, I think I need to bath again.”

The older man laughed, “I think we both need to bath.” He leaned down and kissed his lover gently and moved the two of them back to the table. Picking up the flannel, he wiped the cum from both of them. Kissing the man again, he said. “Let’s go to sleep now. We have a ship to fix tomorrow.”                                                                                      

*****

As James laid in bed with Q resting on his chest, the older man’s fingers gently stroke through the wild curls of his hair. James' mind wondered back to the conversation months ago off the coast of Brazil. Q had asked to return to England. He had asked James if he could go back to see his family. Then when the opportunity came to them to return and see Mycroft, Q jumped at it. Had Q started to change his mind about his family, was Q regretting his choice to join James? The captain pulled Q closer to his chest. He shuttered at the thought of losing Q. Losing him because the boy wanted to leave.

“Q, I’m planning on returning to Kingston and staying there. The Skyfall needs to be repaired and it would be the best port for us to go to.”

Q sat up quickly and looked down at James. “No we need to keep sailing to London. To England.”

“Why?”

“The pardon. The Letter of Marque. We need them.” Q said pulling away from James and sitting back on his heels. The older man could feel his heart icing over as the warmth of his young lover left him.

“We don’t need them. We didn’t in the past, we don’t need them now.”

“Besides, what about Molly. We need to get her back to the Admiralty.”

James reached and grabbed Q’s arms. He pulled the young man back down onto him, Q didn’t resist. Molly was a good excuse, but still Bond felt he needed to protect Q. “Quincy do you want to return to your life before us?” James whispered, looking Q in the eyes.

The young man looked confused, he pouted and cocked his head to the side. He didn’t understand the question.

“I didn’t have a life before us. Before you. What are you asking me?”

“Do you want to leave me and return to your family?”

Q’s eyes grew wide. He tried to pull back but Bond wouldn’t let go or let Q move away. “Never, how could you ask me that? I love you. I want to be here with you always.”

James lifted his hand and pulled Q’s head down to his chest and held him tight. He didn’t answered Q, but he still felt he was losing his sprite.

 


	16. Evenings Overheard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said with Pirates of Skyfall, I am not a historian. Just a fan of Bond movies. Please forgive any mistakes I make on ancillary information.

Evening Overheard

Molly had laid her head on her arms resting on the table, sleeping deeply. She had dosed off sometime after Danny had brought her dinner. She had not been hungry and only ate a little and drank the ale.

Alec stepped into the cabin and looked down at the sleeping woman. Her breathing was soft and deep. Her face relaxed and smooth. Unthinkingly, he reached out and gently stroked his fingers through the sleeping woman's hair. Letting his digits tangle slightly in the light brown strands. She moaned slightly as her hair was tugged and she slowly raised her head before she opened her eyes. Sitting up straight she focused her gaze on the man standing over her, a small smile on his face, looking down at her. She blinked twice and smiled back at him, leaning into his hand. It was warm and she was enjoying the touch. Her eyes slowly focused and she saw the dirty blond hair and the handsome rugged face. Recognition took hold and she quickly pulled away from his hand and stood. Pulling herself into the corner again.

"Oh stop it, no one is going to harm you." Alec barked at her.

"You were touching me." She accused. She didn’t want to let herself dwell on the fact that she had enjoyed the touch, or that now, she was missing it.

"I was just trying to wake you, nothing else. Here I found these in the wreckage of your cabin." He held out one of Molly's dresses. It was the pink one and had small rose buds across the bodice. "The other dress was burned. I'll check with Q tomorrow and see if he as some breeches and a shirt that will fit you. He's the smallest of the crew other than the monkeys and they are too small."

She reached forward and took the dress from his hand. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Oh, I found this too." He set a silver backed hair brush on the table between them. The silver pattern reflected the soft yellow light from the oil lamp. She gasped and rushed forward. Her fingers lightly moved over the intricate design of orange blossoms. Alec looked at her face and saw the tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. "Molly?"

"It was my mother's. One of the few things I have from her. I thought it was gone." She picked up and hugged it to her breast. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me." The tear finally moved down her face and fell. "There was a comb and mirror too. Do you think they are alright too? Could we find them too?"

"I'll look tomorrow for them," he answered softly. He sat down at the table and poured himself a tankard of ale. Sipping slowly he looked up at her. She didn't move away from him this time. "Have you eaten?”

“Yes, not much.” She raised her eyes and looked at the pirate. His bright green eyes shined in the lamp light.

“You need to get ready for bed. You can sleep in the bunk, I'll set up the hammock."

She nodded and looked around the small cabin. "Ah where do I . . . I'll just sleep in my dress shouldn't I?" She blushed slightly, trying to avoid his eyes.

"Oh, I'll just . . . I'll step out and you sleep in your shiff. I'll be back in a minute. Use the bunk. Okay." He stood and turned to leave his cabin. His mind snapped at him. This was ridiculous. He was a pirate, not some country bo. He paused with his hand on the door knob. "Just pull your dress off and get in the bunk. I'm not leaving."

"You're not," she squeaked.

"Just do it." He barked at her again. Molly jumped and moved quickly over to the bunk. She stripped out of her torn filthy dress and let it fall to the floor. She climbed up and into the bunk and pulled the wool blanket over her thin limbs and up to her throat. Alec turned around and saw her staring at him. Her silver hair brush still tightly grasped in her tiny fist. "I don't think you will need that tonight to sleep with."

She didn't move to let go of it. He shook his head and moved to the side of the bunk and looked down at her. Then he leaned down over her. A broad smirk coved his face as she pulled quickly away from him. He dropped his hand and grabbed the handle of the bottom drawer. Opening it and he pulled out the hammock that was stored there. He was attaching it to the rings in the ceiling when he heard a loud moan next door.

"Oh shite, not tonight.” He dropped the hammock and stepped over to the bunk. He grabbed the wool blanket and pulled it off Molly. She yelped. “Come on, we need to leave. Quickly.”

“Why?!”

“Just move!”

“I’m not going out in my shiff!”

Alec looked around, then grabbed his oilskins. A second moan could be heard coming through the wall. Molly looked toward the sound, her eyes widened as she turned back to Alec. She quickly grabbed the coat and threw it on as she rushed out of the cabin. Alec followed her out and pulled her up to the quarter deck.

Alec looked around and noticed the few crew members on the deck looking Molly up and down. Smiles covered their faces as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He guided her to the ladder for the fore deck. Pushing her in front of him, he rested his hands on her hips and steadied her as she stepped up.

“My friends can be very enthusiastic.” He smiled down at her. She pulled away and moved toward the rail. Spray from the occasional wave touching her face. The moon was bright and reflected on the water. The moonlight paling her skin to ivory. There was warm wind, carding through her hair. It had come loose and hung around her shoulders in cascading soft curls. He stepped up behind her but stood just far enough away to not touch her. Bending down he could smell the scent of flowers in her hair. They stood together in silence for a time.

“It is beautiful out here, isn’t it?” she said softly. He hummed in agreement. “I can understand why you would want to be a sailor.”

“But I’m not just a sailor, am I.” She twisted her head slightly at his words, but didn’t turn completely to look at him. “I’m a pirate.” He could feel her try to step away from him, but she was trapped by the railing and his body.

“Why are you a pirate?” she whispered.

“Because I want to be.” She didn’t answer but waited for him to explain. “James and I were junior officers in the Royal Navy, but we had a difference of opinion with the Admiralty.”

“Oh.”

“We left and acquired our own ship. Decided to be what we wanted to be. Do what we wanted to do. Not be told what to do by anyone else.” Alec brought his hand up and gently brushed her hair back over her shoulder, exposing Molly’s neck. Before she could move, Alec leaned forward and kissed her neck where it met her shoulder.

“Stop!” she whispered. His lips felt hot to her skin. The warmth moved down her body and settled in her stomach.

“But I want to kiss you. I will kiss you. Remember, I am a pirate. We do as we want.” His hands reached up and took hold of her waist holding her still. Molly’s skin tingled as Alec leaned down again and kissed further up her neck. Turning her in his grip, he pulled her to his chest. Her heart pounding inside her ribs. “Molly you are very pretty, you know.”

“Stop, please!” Her mind was screaming at her to reach out to him. To kiss him back. Then her conscious took over. Guilt and shame colored her vision. She brought her hands up and placed them on his chest trying to push him away. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“I did? I don’t remember.” He went to lean forward and kiss her lips. She pushed hard against him and pulled her upper body way.

“Please don’t. Please stop!” Her voice broke and he could tell she was crying. Her small body was trembling in his hands. He stopped and pulled back. Alec was many things, but not a rapist. He wouldn’t force anyone. He loosened his grip and let her pull away from him.

“I’m sorry. The evening got away from me. Forgive me.”

She cried softly, wrapping her arms around herself. “Can we go back inside now?” she asked trying to sound brave. Molly was hating herself. She wanted to be here in this man’s arms, but what would her father say? What would he call her for being so wanton? Alec heard the soft sob and misunderstood why Molly was upset. Wanting to pull her close and reassure her, Alec fought his response to the woman.

“Yes, it is probably okay now.” He stepped back. Her first few steps were shaky, then she squared her shoulders and stepped forward. She walk away from him and down the ladder to the lower deck. Alec clinched his fists and followed.

*****

Footsteps from the deck above roused Sherlock, who was laying on the wooden bed in the small cabin just inside the sick bay. He and John were using this cabin as John was still taking care of several injured sailors from the battle. The doctor had insisted that Sherlock sleep in the bed and he would take the hammock.

“You can’t sleep on you back, you idiot, and you can’t sleep in a hammock on your stomach, Sherlock.” John had shouted at the man earlier. Apparently, John had forgotten that Sherlock chose not to sleep most nights. He laid in the dark listening to the soft deep breathing from the doctor. The snores from the various patients in the outer room were just barely heard in the cabin.

Sherlock sat up and crawled down the narrow bed to the porthole. Twisting the brass fittings and opened the glass, Sherlock breathed deeply the sea laced air. It was warm but still fresh. A contrary to the stagnant air of the sickbay. He didn’t understand how John could tolerate the oppression of the room.

Sherlock’s mind wondered to other nights over the past two years, nights he had sat hidden in dark corners, breathing deeply fresh air that had been denied him to long. Strange places and foreign smells. He closed his eyes remembering. Remembering how many times he wanted to give up his pursuit and return to the man sleeping not five feet from him. Just to see his doctor again, his friend.

John Watson had been the constant in Sherlock’s quest. The memory of the man was always present in Sherlock’s thoughts. How many times had John’s voice called out to the detective in his mind? The doctor’s voice of reason, the soldier’s voice in times of stress, and then the other voice. The sound of John’s voice when he was excited, desperate. It was not higher or lower but just indiscernible different in pitch. It was more breathy, more focused. Sherlock had thought of that voice so many times.

He and John Watson had only been the best of friends before he left. They had shared adventures and saved each other’s lives, but other than the occasional slap on the back and strong hand shake, they had not shared the slightest of touches. But when Sherlock was away, many nights, alone, Sherlock thought of John and his touch.

He thought of hearing that raspy excited voice whispering in his ear as the doctor’s warm fingers smoothed across his skin. He wondered if John would enjoy being touched or doing the touching. Would John take control or let Sherlock lead them? As Sherlock thought about these things, his own hand would ghost down his body, wanting it to be John’s. Sherlock wanted to both give and receive pleasure from his friend. The thought of returning to John and finding the man so wanting of him as he was of the doctor is what held Sherlock together on so many lonely nights.

Now the man he had done it all for, the man whose memory and fantasies of kept Sherlock going, was only five feet away, and yet the distance between them was greater than an ocean. John was engaged. He had found someone while Sherlock was away. He could barely look at Sherlock without glaring in anger and hatred. It tore at the man’s heart. Sherlock had to make John understand. He had to.

Sherlock pulled himself off the bed and he went and stood over John’s hammock, looking down on the sleeping man. There was hardly any light in the cabin and the sleeping man was in complete shadows. The best Sherlock could make out was the rise and fall of John’s chest as he breathed slowly. Sherlock clinched his fist, to prevent him from reach up and touching John’s sleeping face. The man desperately wanted to finally touch John, to let his hand move across the doctor’s skin as he had dreamed about so many times. He wanted to lean down and taste the lips that he had studied for hours while John ignored him. But he couldn’t. With supper human strength, Sherlock pulled himself away from John’s side and laid back down on the narrow bed. Rolling away, to face the bulkhead, instead of the hammock, Sherlock wrapped his arms around himself waiting for the dawn.

John listened silently till he heard Sherlock move away from him before he opened his eyes. He had heard his friend moving around the small cabin and wondered what was keeping Sherlock awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reasonable comments always welcome. Thank you


	17. Morning Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is unrealistic given the morals of the time period, just suspend your disbelief and enjoy. Molly and Alec get closer and have an interesting morning.

Morning Conversations

Q woke feeling the warmth of his lover next to him. His eyelids fluttered for a moment then opened to see a fuzzy image of James smiling down at him. James handed him his wire framed spectacles and leaned down to kiss Q’s forehead.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispered into Q’s skin as his lips slowly moved down the young man’s face to his mouth. James nippled at Q’s lower lips until his mouth opened and James’ tongue licked in. Q moaned then tried to gently push the larger man off.

“Let me brush first.” Q said trying to sit up. James pulled back with a huff and let Q rise, wrapping his arms around the thin body holding him in place.

The young man looked around the cabin. His dirty clothes from yesterday still laid on the floor of the cabin, where he had dropped them last night. The bucket of water still sat on the floor next to them and the uneaten food sat on the table. Memories of the previous night’s activities came back to Q. He smiled remembering how James had pushed him in a different direction and brought them pleasure together. The captain was forever coming up with new ways to excite and overwhelm Quincy and he loved it. His upper arms were still sore from being held so long above his head, but his body was relaxed and had that refreshed and satisfied feeling from a night of great sex with his older lover.

Then Q remembered the questions James had asked him. “ _Do you want to leave me?”_ How could James even think such a thing? James was Q’s whole world. Yes the arrival of his brother, Sherlock and the request from Mycroft had changed things, but Q still love James and couldn’t understand why the man would think differently.

“James, why did you ask if I was going to leave you?” Q asked with a small pout on his face. James tightened his hold and leaned down to kiss Q’s shoulder.

“It seems everything you’ve done in the last few months has pushed you closer to returning to your family. You know if you go back, they will separate us. They would have too.”

“No, they won’t. I won’t let them.”

“Remember last time, in Bridgetown? Remember what Mycroft made you do? I feel like it is happening again. The offer of the letter is only to get you there. The receipt of the letter will be dependent on you staying and forcing me away from you.” He reached his hand up and grabbed Q’s hair, pulling in back so the young man could look James in the face. “I won’t let you do it again. I won’t let you leave me again.”

Q swallowed. He had seen this look in James’ eyes before. The determination, the protectiveness, the hunger.

“I won’t go.” He whispered back.

“You belong to me. Say it. You’re mine.”

“I am yours. Yours alone.”

“Nothing your bothers do will change that, will it?”

“Nothing.”

James leaned forward and captured Q’s lips with his. Q hummed into the demanding kiss. He knew he was owned and he wouldn’t have changed it for anything. James twisted their bodies till Q was laying down again and James coved the young man’s naked body with his.

*****

Alec jumped down the ladder to the quarter deck from the poop deck and looked up at the repairs to the mast and yard arms. He raised his hand to shield the sun from his eyes when a flash of pink caught his attention. Molly was walking quickly down the side of the quarter deck to the hatch way closest to the sick bay.

“Molly, what are you doing up here?” he growled at her. She stopped and squared her shoulders before she turned to answer him.

“I’m going to go help John.”

“No you’re not. Get back to the cabin.” He said walking up to tower over her.

She looked up into his eyes and leaned forward. “No. You will not tell me what to do. I will do as I see fit.” Molly cocked her head to the side. “We are all pirates here aren’t we. And pirates do as they want.”

Alec glared down at the young woman. She held his gaze and glared right back. He tried to hold his scowl but a small twitch at the corners of his lips started. Then he couldn’t help himself but to start laughing at his little furry kitten. All fluff and hissing. Just adorable. When the broad smile covered his face and wrinkled his eyes, she smiled back. It was warm and refreshing.

“Stay with him or his poncy friend. Don’t wonder off.” He winked at her.

“Aye, aye captain.” She whispered. Molly slowly stepped down the steep steps at the hatchway and into the darkness of the gun deck, right in front of the door for the sick bay.

*****

The Skyfall sailed into the small bay that afternoon. James and Q boarded the long boat and headed ashore to find at least ten straight tall trees they could use to repair parts of the ship. The crew worked as fast as they could. The Arma de Oro was still in the waters and Renard would soon know of Mallory’s deception and be after them. They had to get the Skyfall ready for the long voyage across the Atlantic and return Molly to the safety of England.

It took two and half days for James and Q to find the right trees and cut them down. Q had the crew stack the trees up as he built large fires around them to help dry the wood faster. It was the only way he could think to devise kiln dry the logs. The fires and drying the wood took another three days. Then the sailors used saws to make planks. Q worked constantly, repairing the damaged support beams and designing new supports and rigging. Alec spent hours up on the yardarms and in the ropes, adding metal braces and block and tackle to help the damaged masts. Neither man slept more than a few hours during the week. James stood watch over his ship as the crew scrambled to make the repairs.

It was almost a week before the Skyfall could sail away from the island and return to her course. The crew exhausted from repairing the ship as fast as they did. The ship moved gracefully back into the deep water and the raised sails caught the evening breezes. The setting sun cast long shadows over the deck, as Alec finally after a week of only occasional naps finally retired to his cabin. The man was already half asleep when he entered the small room. Molly was asleep in the bunk as Alec walked up and climbed into the bed beside her. Fully dressed he rolled over and pull the pillow out from under her head, waking her.

“Alec what are you doing?!” She went to complain when she noticed he was already asleep. Gently snoring as he twisted to hug the pillow, laying his head on the corner of it.

Molly scooted back to the bulkhead and moved slowly away from the sleeping man. If he wasn’t going to sleep in the hammock, then she would have too. She pulled it out from the drawer and looked at the complicated attachment rings and ropes. Then Molly stood on her toes trying to reach the ceiling to attach the hammock, but could barely even do that. Disgusted, she threw the canvas down and looked around the small cabin. She could sleep in the chair, but that would be terrible uncomfortable. The floor didn’t look any more inviting. She looked back at the bunk with Alec sound asleep and soft mattress. Molly stepped near the bed and poked Alec with her finger in his back. He didn’t move. She did it again. Still no response. Molly gave up and decided it was safe. She crawled back over the sleeping man and laid down between him and wall, wishing she was strong enough to steal the pillow back.

*****

As Molly woke in the morning she notice two different but worrisome things. First, she was very warm even though she had kicked the wool blanket off during the night. The second thing was a pressing weight over her shoulders. Molly slowing opened her eyes, and moved her legs around till her bare feet felt the naked calves of a man laying behind her. Her movements caused him to wake some and squeeze her tighter.

Molly found she was sleeping next to a very naked Alec Trevelyan. Not exactly sure how she had gotten that way. Her head was pillowed on his left arm and his right was wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her back to his chest. She shifted trying to pull herself away, when he hummed at her. Lowering his face to bury it in her hair.

“Don’t move,” his voice was raspy with sleep.

“Alec, what are you doing? Why are you naked?”

“Shhh . . . still asleep. Don’t move.” He pulled her back to his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Alec, wake up. WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!”

He groaned and shifted slightly but did not release her. He looked down and then leaned up to look down at her. Molly’s eyes were wide and her face was blushing bright pink.

“Oh fuck!” He said when he realized he was in fact naked. “I guess I took my clothes off in my sleep. I’ve done that before. But I don’t remember getting into bed with you last night.” He smiled down at her.

“Well you were asleep before your head hit the pillow.” She explained.

“Well then, I guess I was very tired and needed to sleep. I should probably sleep some more.” He lowered himself and pulled her back into his chest.

“Alec, you’re not going to let me up?”

“No, why should I. You’re comfortable.”

“ALEC!”

“No, you’re not moving for a while.” He said with a huff.

Molly tried to relax and not think of the man behind her. She shifted again and wiggled her hips trying to get comfortable.

“You shouldn’t do that, Molly.” He said as he tightened his grip.

“Why?” She shifted again, then felt something hard press into her back. She moved back into the man to try and feel the hard shaft again. “What is that?”

“The reason you are to stay still and to quit talking.”

She tried to stay still, then shifted again. “What is it? What did you bring to bed?”

“Molly you naïve little kitten. It’s a cock. A morning hard cock.” She gasped and tried to move away again. He huffed and squeezed her shoulder again. “Every time you move you make it harder for me to relax and let it go down.”

“Oh. . .” She tried to lay still in his arms. “Is it always that way in the morning?”

“What?!”

“I never seen one. I mean, I have always been interested medicine. I want to be a doctor, but I have not been allowed to study anatomy or physiology. That’s why I’ve been spending so much time with John. He’s been teaching me. I’ve been learning as much as I can, but any thing I know about a man’s . . . ah . . a man’s appendage has been wives tales told to all us young women. I was told once that you can make it twice it’s normal length whenever you want.”

Alec laughed. “No that’s not true, it does get larger and firmer but not twice as large.” Molly’s shoulders relaxed as she let a breath go she was holding.

“Oh good.” She paused, then asked. “What else?”

Alec twitched slightly. He had never had this conversation with a woman before, let alone a woman quite like Molly. “Well, it’s normal for a man to wake with a morning erection. Especially when he wakes up with a woman in his arms.” He could feel her tense. “If you stay still and I think about something other than you rubbing up against me, it will slowly go away.”

“Is that what you do normally? Think about something else and wait for it to go away?”

“No, normally I deal with it.”

“How?” This was definitely not helping the situation. How could he explain taking himself in hand to Molly? His cock twitched against her curve of her backside. “Did you just rub against me?”

“No, sometime cocks move by themselves.”

“Really!” She spun in his arms before he could stop her. She moved back and looked down between them. “Do it again.”

“Damn it, Molly,” he pulled back. “Have you no modesty?” She looked up at his face and saw his bright burning green eyes. Blushing she turned away.

“I’m sorry. My inquisitive nature sometimes gets the best of me. I just was curious.”

“It’s alright. I just am not used to letting a woman see me naked when we haven’t shagged.” His fingers reached up and slipped into her hair. “Turn around and take a look.”

Molly hesitated for a moment, then rolled over and stared up into his face. He had a smirk over his lips and his hand reached up and cupped her face. His hand felt warm to her skin. She blinked up at him, then let her eyes move slowly down his throat to his chest. Her eyes sweeping over his shoulders and chest. Various scars dotted across the tan skin. Molly’s fingers traced over the scars, listening as Alec hummed at her touch. She pulled back away from his hand and pushed herself up into a sitting position next to the bulkhead. He scooted up and leaned his shoulders back onto the headboard.

He looked like a reclining lion and Molly was his next meal. Molly’s eyes traveled even further down the pirate’s body. Muscles rippled down the man’s abdomen. Molly’s own stomach tightened and she felt warm and flushed. She reached out and let her fingers move again, following the dips and ridges of his muscles. Over to the point of his hip, then she paused. Her eyes flashed back up into Alec’s. He was smiling at her.

“What’s shagged?” She whispered. Alec laughed softly.

“I’ll tell you later.”

She finally let her eyes fall on his cock. It was long and thick jutting away from the nest of pale brown curls.

“May I touch it?” she asked. He hummed. She let her finger slide slowly from the base of the cock up to the darker tip. Alec hissed. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, do it again.” He tipped his head back stretching his back. She did as he asked, slowly running her fingers up the velvety skin and then let her thumb lightly stroke over the slit, feeling the slick moisture of his pre-cum. “Grasp it, not too hard, then stroke up and down.” She circled her hand around the length of Alec. Stroking slowly from the top to the base. Molly felt the hardness of the organ under the velvet skin. She squeezed tighter stroked it again. “Oh fuck Molly, again.” His voice rough and raspy. Molly felt the cock twitch in her grasp. Her blood began to burn in her veins, she never felt anything like this before. She sped up her movements. He started panting, biting his lips. “Molly you are so fucking beautiful. Harder, faster.” She followed his words watching as the man started twisting under her hand. Pushing his hips up into her hand. “Yes, Molly fuck yes!” He wrapped his hand around hers and fucked into her hand.

Molly watched as Alec let out a loud groan and cum covered her hand. He pushed up off the bed and then collapsed back down, panting. She slowed her movements and let go of his softening cock.

“Did I hurt you?” She asked as worry colored her face. He laughed and leaned forward, he grabbed her and pulled her into his chest. She didn’t fight him this time. This is where she wanted to be.

“No, the farthest thing from it little kitten. But now I really want to rest. Lay down with me please.” He pulled her up and gently kissed her lips. Molly didn’t pull away. She tasted the salt of his sweat and felt the softness of his lips. Molly hummed and he pulled her closer. “My Molly, my little kitten. Stay with me.” She nestled into his arms and closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment encourage me to write faster.


	18. "What can I say?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siobhandragonsmother more reason to hate Mary. John and Sherlock finally have a talk.

“What do I say?”

The Skyfall was a week out from the island sailing into the dark sapphire blue water of the Atlantic. Molly was wearing an old pair of Q’s breeches and a muslin shirt. Tanner was leaning heavily against her, using her as a crutch as they walked slowly around the deck of the ship. Tanner’s bones had knitted together quickly and he was finally up and walking. Although he was needing a great deal of help. Molly was only too happy to help John with his last patient from the attack. John had fixed a shorter brace around Tanner’s leg and he hoped by the time they reached England he could walk off the ship under his own power.

As they made their second lap around the deck, Molly looked up and saw Alec looking down from the wheel deck at her. She smile up at the man. He just nodded and looked away. Molly knew he was unhappy about Tanner being draped over her, but how else was the man going to get around.

Molly and Alec had not shared the bunk again since that one night, but she had let him kiss her on several occasions. Each time, the kisses became more heated, more determined. She clung to his chest more desperately with each moment. After one very intense kiss, Alec asked her if she was still a virgin. Her eyes widen and she silently nodded. He smiled down at her.

“Molly, promise me I will be your first. Promise. I will take care of you. I’ll be very good to you. Make it perfect. Promise me.” He whispered into her neck before he kissed her again. Trembling, she nodded and buried her face into his chest.

She knew that soon she would become the pirate’s lover. Molly blushed at the thought as she looked back up at the man.

“Molly, you’re not listening to me are you?” Tanner asked.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I was letting my mind wonder, forgive me.”

“I just said I was getting tired, let’s sit for a while.” Molly help the man over to a bench sitting next to the passageway for the ward room. The wheel deck was six feet above them, where Alec and Robert stood steering the ship east. It was a bright sunny day and the warmth on her face felt good, as John came up from the lower decks and walked over to them.

“I thought I told you he needed to walk and strengthen those muscles.”

“I told her I needed to sit, so shut it.” Tanner shot back at the doctor.

Molly’s eyes traveled over to the foredeck. Sherlock was standing at the rail looking down at the three of them, his eyes fixed on John. She realized she had not seen Sherlock smile again since the fight they had with the sailors. The time when he and John had worked as a team. But since then she noticed they hardly spoke and Sherlock was always watching.

“John, when are you going to forgive Sherlock?” She asked nonchalant. Both men were taken off guard by the question.

“Forgive him, I thought . . . I thought . . . why do you ask?”

“He’s watches you, and he looks sad.”

“What?”

“He looks sad when he thinks no one is looking. He looks sad when he watches you and you don’t see him.” John tuned quickly to look around for Sherlock. When he finally located the tall man, Sherlock had turn from the rail and walked away. "Only when you aren’t looking. Are you going to forgive him?”

“I . . . I want too.”

“Do you miss him?” she asked.

“How can I miss the idiot when we are in the same cabin together every night?” John joked back, trying and failing to hide the emotion in his voice. He could feel his throat start to raw and his eye prick with tears.

“John, I’ve known people in marriages for years, living in the same house, living the same lives and missing each other.” She said softly.

“It’s not all that easy to just forgive.”

“Quincy has. Alec told me. Didn’t he have more reason to be angry with his brother?”

John spun back and looked at Molly closely. “I was closer to Sherlock than his brothers. I was his . . . he told me I was his only friend.”

“Then being his only friend, why can’t you forgive him?”

John shifted uncomfortably on his feet looking down at the woman with big brown inquisitive eyes. She had come to him, asking questions constantly. Questions about medicine and anatomy and physiology. He had never thought himself a teacher, but he learned it was best to answer her questions honestly and forthright. It was difficult at first discussing certain things with a lady, but he relaxed and she was never put off. But these questions, he never expected. Questions about his feelings. How could he answer those? Over the past few weeks, he learned to answer her truthfully and quickly, but this question he couldn’t even answer for himself.

“Molly, Bill needs to be up and walking. He needs to strengthen his muscles and help get his heart pumping. I don’t want him to throw a clot and have an embolism now. Get moving you two.” The doctor turned and walked away. John headed to the hatchway but stopped. He looked up quickly and saw Sherlock staring down at him. The man’s face drawn and worry lines crossed his brow. John swallowed the lump in his throat and went to climb the stairs to the foredeck.

When he stepped on the foredeck, Sherlock was looking down into the water.

“Plan on jumping again?” John called out to him. Sherlock’s back stiffened as his fingers gripped the railing. His knuckles turning white with stress.

“There’s a pod of dolphins over here. They are jumping over our wake.” Sherlock said ignoring John’s piercing comment.

“Dolphins are good luck for sailors.” John said walking up to watch the animals play in the swift water. “Sharks don’t like them, they stay away.”

“Interesting.” Sherlock kept his eyes fixed on the water.

“Sherlock, I think we need to talk.” The doctor could see his friend’s body slump, his frame collapse upon itself. “I know, talking is boring, but us, non-geniuses need to understand, that is accomplished through talking.”

“Alright?” John could hear the eye roll. “Please forgive me for tricking you. I was thoughtless and I made a mistake in not telling you the truth.” Sherlock shouted, exasperated. “Anything I’ve forgotten?”

“That tone doesn’t help your case you know. It just makes me want to punch you again.”

Sherlock spun and glared down at the man. “Then maybe you should do just that, because I am at the end of my rope John. I have tried to make you understand that everything I did, I did for you. You were my primary concern that day on the bridge and every day since. I can’t find any other way of telling you. Unless . . .” His expression unguarded and wild. He leaned forward, crowding into John’s space. The wind whipping his already unruly curls into that of crazed man.

“Unless what?” John asked holding his ground, refusing to back away from Sherlock.

The tall man was shaking, he mind was racing beyond his control. _‘I want, I want John. I should have John. He is my prize. My center, my life.’_ Sherlock’s speed was surprising to those who had never seen it, but even John was not expecting the man’s hands to suddenly grasp either side of his face and his lips to be captured by Sherlock’s.

Sherlock’s kiss was fevered and messy. Unexpected and rough. Sherlock’s hands held John’s face tightly, his palms cold next to John’s flushed face. Sherlock rubbed his lips hard against John’s, then licked and bit at the man’s lips. And as sudden as it started it stopped. Still holding John’s face, Sherlock pulled back slightly to look down at his friend.

“John,” he whispered. The unique way Sherlock could say his name making John’s skin tingle and fire start to burn in his belly. “Oh my beautiful John.” Sherlock leaned forward again and this kiss was the opposite of the first. It started tentatively and soft. Asking and giving, not taking and demanding. John opened his mouth and let Sherlock’s tongue slip in. The doctor tasting the tobacco on Sherlock’s. Tobacco and honey, tea. Yes that was tea he tasted. John moaned and leaned into his friend. John brought his hands up and rested them on Sherlock’s waist to steady himself. He felt dizzy and confused. The only sound he heard was drumming of his heart and humming from their kissing. Sherlock’s cool hands seemed suddenly very warm on John’s skin and John ardently wanted to feel more of Sherlock’s skin.

Sherlock pulled back again. Looking down into John’s blue eyes that mirrored the color of the ocean, Sherlock smiled. His true, real smile that he only shared with John. The doctor focused on the man’s face and his silvery blue eyes. Seeing his special smile, made John smile too.

“I would dearly enjoy taking this conversation to somewhere more private if you don’t mind. There are so many things I want to say to you.” Sherlock said as he slowly let his hands slip from John’s face and down his body to rest on the man’s hips. “Please John.”

John could only nod and blink. He was still so light headed. His knees felt like they were going to collapse as soon as he moved. “Just give me a moment. I think I might faint.”

“Honestly John,” Sherlock laughed and leaned forward to place a light kiss to the doctor’s cheek. The two men stepped back from each other still staring into each other’s eyes. Letting go of each other was incredibly difficult. They did but unconsciously leaned into each other’s space again.

“The cabin? No one is in sick bay right now.” John said softly. Sherlock nodded. The taller man stepped back and headed for the ladder, with John following close behind. The two men quickly made it down the hatchway and into the cabin before anyone could stop them.

As soon as the door was closed, Sherlock grabbed John’s shoulders and pushed him to the wall. John grunted as his back hit hard and then the lithe form of Sherlock pressed into him. Sherlock grabbed both of John’s wrist and raised them over the man’s head, then slowly lowered himself down for a kiss. John tried to turn his head and move away from Sherlock but the taller man held John still and kissed the side of his mouth.

“Sherlock, just a moment. Please. I really need to ask some questions.” He gasped as Sherlock moved down his jaw line and bit into the triangle flesh under John’s ear. “Please, I don’t quite understand.”

“What is to understand, John? My John.” Sherlock’s lips grazed over John’s throat. “I want you. You want me. Give yourself to me, John.” Sherlock’s lips returned to John’s mouth as John turned to answer him. With a soft bite to John’s lower lip, Sherlock was granted entrance. The tall man licked and tasted every part of the smaller man’s mouth, humming with appreciation.

John’s resolve was non-existent. He knew he could not say no to Sherlock. The crazy man had unlocked some part of John’s brain the doctor didn’t even know he had. He was doing things to John’s body that no one had ever tried. John wanted to know how much Sherlock could do for him. How much pleasure could John experience?

Then reality showed its ugly head.

“No Sherlock, just give me a moment to breath.”

“Breathing is boring.”

“Sherlock, we can’t just do this. We can’t just forget everything that has happened.”

“Why not. I want you, you want me. It’s not very complicated.” More kisses down John’s throat as he felt Sherlock’s hand move to John’s waist band.

“Sherlock stop! Sherlock, I’m engaged to Mary!”

The taller man froze. His fingers had slipped inside John’s waist band and could just feel the soft curls of hair. Sherlock lifted his head and stared into John’s panting face.

“Sherlock, I’m engaged to be married. I don’t do this, I’m not a bugger.” John whispered.

“Neither am I. I just . . . you are the . . . John please.”

“Sherlock, we need to talk.” Sherlock pulled back away from John releasing his wrists and stepping away. John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was shaking badly and his cock was aching hard in his breeches. Sherlock moved as far away from John as he could in the small confines of the cabin, then turned and looked at him.

“Do you love her?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t have asked her to marry me if I didn’t.” John said opening his eyes and watching Sherlock closely.

“Then you don’t want me? You don’t want to be my lover?”

“I wouldn’t know how.”

“You’re a doctor and a soldier for God’s sake, you know how exactly. So you’ve never been with another man, so what, neither have I. I just want you. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember.”

“Sherlock, please, I wish it was that simple.” John closed his eyes trying to regain control.

“It is that simple. Do you want me?” John stood silently by the door. Sherlock could feel his heart start to miss beats. “Do you want me, John?”

“Yes.” He said it so softly it could barely be heard by the man. Sherlock stood and took a step towards John. The blonde’s eyes flew open and he said. “Yes I want you. But I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t know if you won’t hurt me again. Hurt me so bad I can’t breathe. I know Mary won’t hurt me. I know she is safe. I can trust her, I can’t trust you.”

“John, please let me show you, that you can.”

“No, I’m engaged to Mary and that is that. Please. I forgive you Sherlock, I truly do. I even believe I love you. Maybe from the start, I’ve been in love with you. But I can’t become your lover. I can’t let my defenses down and be ripped apart again by you.”

Sherlock took a step back and collapsed onto the bunk. He watched as John slid down the wall and rested his forehead on bent knees. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I love you and I am scared of you.”

Sherlock couldn’t see much more as tears filled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome.


	19. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those of you who have commented. It makes it easier to keep writing knowing I'm not the only one enjoying this trip.

Confrontation

Robert was on his early morning watch when the first sight of the foreign sails were made. Two ships a mile behind the Skyfall. He watched the ships slip closer to him through the night till about an hour before dawn, he had to wake the captain.

Danny, the powder monkey, banged heavily on Alec’s door, hoping that waking the second in command would wake the captain too.

“Mr. Trevelyan, two ships closing on us!”

Alec and Molly awoke immediately. She turned and saw the naked man roll out of the hammock and grab his breeches from the chair where he dropped them last night.

“Get dressed and find John. Stay with him in the sick bay.” She nodded and threw the wool blanket off and pulled her dress on over her shiff. “No, wear breeches and put your hair up. Dirty your face. If we are boarded I don’t want them to find you as a girl.”

She swallowed quickly understanding the implications. As he pulled his shirt over his head, Molly rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. He lowered his shirt and looked down at her. His hand moved to drag through her hair and pull her face closer.

“Don’t worry, little kitten, everything will be fine.” He leaned down and kissed her. She raised up on her toes and pushed back into the kiss. He smiled at her enthusiasm and winked at her when he pulled back. “Get dressed now.”

She stepped back and letting go of his waist. Alec rushed out of the cabin just as James and Q left theirs.

“The Spanish again?” Alec asked.

“Probably.” James answered. As they stepped up on the deck, James raised a spyglass and looked out in the direction Robert was pointing. There were two ships roughly a hundred yards apart sailing parallel. The captain recognized both.

“Danny, get the crew up now! Get Dalton up here.” James rushed up to the wheel deck. The sun would be rising in less than an hour and they would be in the shadows as the Skyfall would be lit up by the dawn. “It’s the Electra and the Arma de Oro, together.” James said looking out over his ship as his crew started running up from the lower decks. “Full sails, let’s see if we can out run them.”

The gunner’s mate Dalton came up on the deck looking around as men scrambled up the ratlines. “Captain?” he shouted to the upper deck.

“Dalton, load all cannons. Get the crew ready to fight off a boarding.” The man looked around and saw the two ships.”

“Yes sir.” Dalton took off down the ladder to the gun decks calling for the two powder monkeys.

*****

Sherlock was standing on the foredeck, as the ship suddenly came alive with James shouting out orders to the crew. Sherlock couldn’t think being in the same room as John and left shortly after their conversation. The tall man couldn’t believe he had risked so much for John and England to be told he couldn’t be trusted. It burned his mind hearing those words from John. _‘I love you but I can’t trust you._ ’ How could he fix this?

Sherlock stood watching sailors climbing up into the darkness and then the canvas billowing out and down from the yardarms. Other sailors hauled tight on ropes and pulleys making the fabric taught and pushing the ship forward. He saw men running along the deck with muskets and his mind immediately came to life.

Danger. Something was happening and he needed to protect John. Sherlock rushed down the ladder and headed to the sickbay.

*****

Molly was banging on the door to John’s cabin, shouting. “JOHN, GET UP! SHERLOCK!”

The door burst open and John rushed forward and into Molly. He was pulling a shirt over his head.

“What is it? Where is Sherlock?”

“He’s not with you? Oh no. We’re going to be attacked. Two ships sailing towards us. They are already loading the cannons.” Molly was shaking. Her thoughts quickly moving to Alec.

“I’ve got find Sherlock! Where is he?” John’s heart was racing.

“No, Alec told me, we are to stay here. We need to stay here for the wounded, John.”

“TO HELL WITH ALEC AND THE DAMN PIRARTES! I’VE GOT FIND SHERLOCK!” He stepped to the door when it burst open and Sherlock rushed in. John pushed forward pass Molly and pulled Sherlock into his arms. His hands circling behind Sherlock’s head, pulling it down to his. John kissed Sherlock hard and the tall man returned the kiss. They paused naturally and looked at each other for a long moment.

“Don’t scare me like that again.” John whispered to Sherlock.

“John”

“Don’t do it.” He stepped back.

“Something is going on. They are loading the cannons and handing out the muskets.”

“We are going to be attack by two different ships.” Molly said. The two men finally turned and realized she had seen them kissing.

“Ah Molly . . . we. . .”

“That doesn’t matter now, we are going to be attacked. It could be Renard.”

Sherlock straightened and looked around the room. “Do we have any weapons in here?”

“Just my pistol.” John answered.

“We’ll need more.”

*****

The Electra fired first missing the starboard side of the Skyfall. The water sprayed up covered the deck, dousing James and Alec. The two ships were only a hundred yards behind the pirate ship. Within just a few minutes the ships would be in range to give and receive fire. James muscled tensed. He turned as saw his young lover standing on the wheel deck next to Robert.

“Q, time to go down to the sick bay.” The young man looked up at his lover.

“James, please let me . . .” Q’s face was taught with anxiety and worry.

“No, go.” Q nodded and turned to leave. The cannon blasts were from both sides simultaneously. The Skyfall shook and the main mast snapped from the chain shot. It groaned as it started to fall to the deck. Dalton returned fire out both sides of the ship from both decks. Q had never seen the Skyfall do that before. The ship shook and groaned as the forces twisted the timbers.

The second round was grape shot. It covered the quarter deck with one inch iron balls cutting anyone stand there to pieces. Men screamed as their bodies were blown apart. Q and Robert were both on the quarter deck. The teenager was hit, shredding his torso. His blood covering Q’s face. Q fell to the deck, trying to pull the boy to himself. Robert’s head rolled over to stare blankly at Q. The image of the small ten year old boy Toad, looked back at Q, the small face, the inquisitive eyes. Now lifeless and blank. Q screamed out.

James heard Q’s scream and rushed to look down at destruction on the deck. He saw the two men laying on the boards, both covered in blood. James rushed to his lover. Q pulled himself off the deck and collapsed into James’ arms. Skyfall fired again, hitting both ships. The damage was to the hulls of the Spanish and French ships.

The ships closed the distance to within twenty feet on either side of the Skyfall. Dalton continued firing his cannons until he heard the whistle alerting the crew to a boarding party.

*****

John and Sherlock worked hard in the sick bay. John had pulled his shirt off and his arms and chest were covered in blood as he did surgery on screaming men. Sherlock tied tourniquets on bleeding limbs and tried to find a load weapon amongst the injured. Sherlock had made Molly crawl under the wooden bed in the small cabin he and John had been sharing. She was small enough to fit and hard to see in there.

They heard the distant whistle and several of sailors looked up. “We’re being boarded.” They said at different times and volumes. Some shouting, others whispering as if in prayer. As injured pirates, they would most likely be lined up and shot. John kept working ignoring the fear filling the small room. Sherlock twisted to look at his friend then at door Molly was hiding behind. He grabbed a sword from an injured pirate’s hand and stood beside the doctor.

*****

The crew of the Spanish ship was the first to cross over the railing of the Skyfall. Muzzle blasts clouded the area and made it hard to see. After the initial fire of muskets, swords were used. The sound of metal hitting metal was loud and confusing. Then the Electra’s grappling hooks pulled the ship to the Skyfall, and a second volley of gun fire polluted the air. The acrid smoke burning eyes and throats.

James had pulled Q back to the wall and stood in front of the man as he fought off one attacker after another. The decks were covered and slick with blood. The injured crawled off, trying to avoid further blows. The fighting was intense and brutal. Sailor after sailor from the crew of the Skyfall died in front of James on that quarter deck. The sound of the cannons still firing was a crescendo over the screams.

Finally a blade was placed under James’ throat by a tall man with hawk eyes and a red velvet coat. Captain Scaramanga held the blade letting the point dig into James’ flesh. The English man froze, standing still to prevent accidently driving the blade deeper into his skin.

“RELENT!” Scaramanga shouted. James said nothing. The men fighting around James slowed and looked at their captains. “RELENT AND THE REST OF YOUR CREW LIVES!”

James felt Q press up behind him. The pirate looked around at the last of his men staring at him.

“You will let my crew live?!”

“Yes, as a gentleman. I will not kill them nor any of my crew.”

“What about Renard?”

“That is a deal you will need to make with him. Relent!” James dropped the sword. The crew lowered their swords and moved back away from the fight. Alec swore and threw his sword at the Spanish sailors he was fighting.

“Protect my crew from Renard.” James said as Scaramanga removed the sword from James’ throat. “As a gentleman, I ask you to protect my crew.”

Scaramanga stepped closer and punched James in the face with the quillon and guard of his sword. James’ head snapped back, as blood gushed from his broken nose. Alec took a step forward as Spanish sailors raised their blades at him.

“You are my prisoner, Bond. You are to be taken back to Cadiz and tried as a pirate.” He punched James in the abdomen with the guard of the sword and James dropped to his knees. He brought the pommel down hard on the back of his skull, knocking James to the deck. Q lunged forward and grabbed James, trying to protect the fallen man from any more attacks. Scaramanga raised his blade to plunge it into Q when a thin small man stepped up from the crowd of sailors.

“Hold Scaramanga, don’t kill anyone else till I find my key.” Renard said. The man was dressed in black making his pale skin look almost translucent. His pale blue eyes stared down at Q who was using his own body to protect James from any further injury. “Who are you?”

“I’m the quartermaster.” Q said standing up in front of Renard. “I’m second in command.”

“You’re Alec Trevelyan?” The man looked doubtful at the skinny young man standing in front of him.

“Yes.”

Renard stepped around Q, looking the man up and down. “Ты Русский?” (You are Russian?)

“Да” (Yes)

“You don’t look Russian. More English.”

“English mother.” Q said without turning to look at the man. “Now what do you want?”

“I want my key.”

“I don’t understand.” Just then there was a commotion as John and Sherlock were dragged up onto the deck.

“Sir, here’s the doctor and apparently his own private body guard. The boy was hiding under the doctor’s bed.” Molly was pulled up behind the men and thrown to the deck. Her hands slipped in the blood. Renard looked at Sherlock, then back at Q. He smiled but it didn’t reach up to his eyes.

“Now this one could be your twin. A brother?” Q didn’t answer. His eyes met Sherlock’s, pleading with him. “Ты Тревельян брат?” (Are you Trevelyan’s brother?)

Sherlock stood for a moment staring at Renard then he looked at Q. The young man was desperate.

“Yes, I’m Alec’s brother. Sherlock.”

“Tell me Sherlock, where will I find Mary Margret Hooper?”

“I don’t know a Mary Margret Hooper.” Sherlock said. Molly was still kneeling on the deck. She twisted her head slightly to look up at Alec on the wheel deck looking down at her. A sword held at his chest. He shook his head ever so slightly, telling her to remain quite.

“She left the Vauxhall and came on board this ship three weeks ago. I know this because Captain Mallory was more than helpful to tell me so. Well, not as helpful as I would have hoped. I did have to fillet two of his junior officers in front of him first before he told me. So where is she?”

“She was killed when the Arma de Oro attacked us weeks ago. Go look at the cabins on the port side. She was in the middle one.” Q said.

Renard looked around at the crew, then back at Q. “Bring me the powder monkeys.” He called out. Several of his men took off running down into the lower decks of the ship.

“Why do you want my monkeys?”

“Because the young ones make such lovely sounds when you start cutting bits of them off. I’ll start with fingers and ears then move on from there.”

Q’s stomach twisted, and he suddenly felt light headed. James moaned and moved at his feet. Rolling over onto his back James looked up at Q.

“Captain, I’ve have everything at hand. Just rest.” Q said looking down at James. Q clinched his fists behind his back and looked at Renard again. “There is no reason to torture the monkeys. I’ve told you she is dead. Kill me if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh, you English love to be so stoic. I’ve found Englishmen talk faster if they have to watch other they care about suffer. I love the way the young ones cry. Just like children, but yes, powder monkeys usually are children aren’t they.”

The sailors pulled Danny and Rory up onto the deck and threw them at Renard’s feet. They were crying and shaking. Danny reached over and pulled Rory close to him as they looked up into the pirates’ faces. Renard pulled a long curved knife out from behind his back. Smiling like a mad man.

“STOP, DON’T DO THIS!” Q shouted.

“When I’m done with these two, I’ll start with your brother and the doctor’s plaything.” He waved the knife at Molly. She looked up him, then blinked her eyes. Slowly she stood up and stepped closer to Renard.

“Please do not harm anyone else.” She whispered.

“NO, STOP!” The real Alec shouted from the upper deck. One of the sailors hit the back of his head with the butt of a musket.

Renard turned his attention towards Molly. She removed the bandana that had been holding her hair up and let her long brown locks fall around her shoulders. “As you can see. I am right here. You do not need to torture anyone to find my person.”

The smile left the mad man’s face. Molly realized he was disappointed he would not be torturing the young boys tonight.

“I will accompany you without any trouble if you will simple leave this ship now.” He cocked his head to the side, then Renard smiled broadly.

“Agreed.”

“Molly, no,” Sherlock said taking a step forward. Renard raise his pistol and pointed it at the man’s face. John’s heart lurched as he tried to step forward only to be stopped by a sword pointed at his chest.

“You agreed, captain.” Molly said softly trying to sound brave.

Renard looked down at her. “So I did. And so did you. Cross over to my ship and my crew and I will follow.”

“We will cross together.”

He smiled at her and offered her his arm. “Shall we.” Renard and Molly stepped up on the railing and moved across the plank to the Electra. His crew slowly followed him until only the crews of the Skyfall and the Oro remained.

James tried to sit up but he was dizzy from the hit to his skull. One of the Spanish crew handed Scaramanga a set of cuffs and leg irons. The captain threw them down in front of Q.

“Trevelyan, put them on your captain. He is mine now.”

Q knelt down by James and slowly locked the chains around his lover’s wrists and ankles. James looked up and into Q’s face. A small smile was there in his eyes, as the two men let their fingers covertly rub across each other’s. “James.” Q whispered. The man nodded to him. They knew. They didn’t need to say it out loud.

James was roughly pulled to his feet and dragged to the far rail. The crew of the Oro poured up from the lower decks carrying a large chest and hauled it with them to the other ship. The Electra was sailing away from the Skyfall as James was hauled across the gap between the Oro and his ship. The grappling hooks were removed and the ships separated.

The cannon volley from the Electra was unexpected and loud. The target was the water line of the Skyfall. Two more volleys were fired before the massive hole in the side of the ship cause the Skyfall to lean hard to starboard, bow down.

“You agreed to leave the ship alone!” Molly screamed as she watch the Skyfall sink into sea, the dawn light illumining everything.

“I did agree to leave the ship and I did. But I didn’t agree not to sink it once I left. Better not to leave any witnesses as to say where I’m going with my prize.”

His cannons turned on the Oro, but the Spanish ship was already moving out of range fast. Molly watched in horror while the Skyfall twisted and groaned as the mast finally broke and the bow sunk below the waves.

“Alec,” she whispered as the Electra moved away from the carnage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome.


	20. Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized last night I sank the ship on April Fools. Sorry. The ship still sinks. Enjoy.

Salvation

Molly stood on the deck of the Electra watching the Skyfall slip below the waves. She spun on her captor and slapped Renard hard across the face.

“You bastard! How could you?! They were defenseless!”

His only reaction to her hit was to slap her back but twice as hard. Molly fell to the deck, grasping her face. The mate stepped forward and whispered in Renard’s ear. The brute leaned over Molly and glared.

“I am to return you to England to my partner. You will find the journey less arduous if you never do that again.” He stood up straight and shouted out his orders. “Take the whore to her cabin. Make full sail and set a course for England.” The man walked away as Molly remained crumpled on the deck. The Skyfall was now gone, only debris covered the water.

*****

James was laying on the deck of the Spanish ship as he watched his Skyfall being attacked again. The cannon blast punching a hole in the side of the ship and the groan as the mighty vessel took on water and quickly disappeared beneath the wave.

Gone, all gone. His ship, his crew, Alec and his love, Q. James felt his soul being ripped from his body.

 _‘They would pay. All of them would pay.”_ He promised himself. He held tight to that thought as the first blows from the whip cut into his body, followed by the blunt jarring hit from the heavy chain. James promised himself, if he survived to Cadiz, he would escape and make them all pay for taking his sprite from him.

*****

With the first blast from the cannons of the Electra, the crew of the Skyfall knew this was it. They were to be destroyed. Alec rushed to rail watching the ship sail away with Molly on board, banging his fist into the wood. John ran to the hatchway, Sherlock chasing after him.

“JOHN?! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!”

“THE INJURED, I NEED TO GET THE INJURED OUT!”

Q looked around quickly and saw the two long boats still secured in their berths. Each boat could hold fifteen men, it was a chance, a small chance.

“ALEC, HELP ME.” Q called out. Alec turned and saw the man run to the long boats. Several other sailors followed Q. There was no time for the careful lowering of the boats into the water with ropes and tackle. The men literally dropped them into the water, as the bow tipped alarming down. Men started jumping from the railing and climbing into the first boat. Alec grabbed the two powder monkeys and dropped them over the side of the ship and into the catching arms of sailors.

Q had the second boat unhooked and readied the men to drop it when Alec grabbed Q around the waist and pulled him away. He picked the young man up and carried him to the side of the ship and dropped him into the water beside the long boat.

“ALEC WAIT!” Q shouted as he fell into the water. His head popping up quickly to look up at the ship railing. Sherlock and John were there with Tanner. Other injured men were jumping from the ship now, John having unbarred the door to the sickbay and freeing them. Both John and Tanner with already wet, the sick bay having been flooded.

Q watched as Sherlock and John lifted Tanner over the railing and pitched the man into the sea near the small craft. Then together the two climbed up onto the railing and jumped. Q looked back up to find Alec was gone.

Alec had left the railing and looked across the deck for anyone else he need to toss over board. The decks were clear and only a few sailors remained gathering their courage to jump into the cold water. Alec dashed down the stairs to the ward room and into his cabin. The water was already pulling the ship down fast and the decks were tipping to the bow.

Alec looked quickly around the cabin and found it resting in the middle of the small table. Molly’s silver hair brush. He grabbed it quickly and shoved it under his tuck shirt to keep it safe. He ran from the cabin when suddenly there was a loud crack and the whole ship shuttered and groaned. The keel had snapped under the strain. Alec was knocked to the deck, as the ship twisted and tipped. The bow was deep in the water now and the stern lifted out of the water. The decks were at a sixty degree angle, throwing Alec against the wall near the passageway. The big heavy table that had dominated the ward room for years came sliding down the steep incline. Alec twisted and rolled out of the way of the table as it crashed into the wall he was laying on.

Water was now rushing in through the passageway and Alec was trapped. He looked around but the only escape were the widows that were in the aft of the room but now were over his head by twenty feet. The cold water swirled around his legs and lifting debris around him.

Swim, that was it! He would swim to windows as the water filled the compartment. It was dark inside the ward room, the oil lamps doused and black water rushing in fast. Alec struggled to keep his head above its cold fingers as it pushed him up towards the windows. In less than a minute, the water had pushed him to the frame. He opened the latch and pulled the window open, grabbing the edges of the frame, he lifted himself out of the flooded room and onto the very back of the ship.

Alec dove into the black water as far away from the ship as he could make it. He fought against the maelstrom of swirling water and the suction of the sinking ship. Debris littered the scene and he swam hard against waves.

Q saw him in the early dawn light jump into the water and ordered the men to row in the direction he had seen Alec land. In less than two minutes, Alec met up with the small boat.

“How many on board?” he shouted from the water.

“Eleven, get in.” Q answered him. Alec lifted himself up as the men shifted their weight to prevent the small boat from capsizing.

“The other boat?” Alec asked collapsing into the bottom of the boat. Danny and Rory were there too and quickly grabbed the big man and held onto him. He wrapped his arms around the frighten boys. The two young boys may have been in battles and fights with the pirates, but this was the first time they had to flee for their lives.

“I think they have ten. We need to see if anyone else is still alive.”

Alec and Q looked hard at each other. Twenty two men were known to be alive. The Skyfall had a company of almost eighty. Q broke the look first and let his eyes travel over the debris field bobbing in the water. Bodies were everywhere. The blood being washed away, leaving pale dead faces of friends and comrades staring back at the living in the boats.

Alec pushed the two boys away from himself and told them to stay low in the boat. He looked up at the other small craft just twenty yards away as they pick up another live sailor from the water, but the bodies were already being pulled along by the currant away from them. So much loss, so much waste. Twenty three men. One in four of the crew survived.

Now he needed to keep the last of his crew alive.

“We need to find anything useful for the journey back.” Alec said looking out over the debris field. “Water kegs, canvas, anything.”

“Back?” asked John.

“It will take us at least two weeks to get back to land, if we row. If we can set sails it will be faster.”

“Alec, we can’t last two weeks without food and water.” Q whispered to him.

Alec looked over at the young man. “We have too.”

It was silent in the small craft, when a shout came from the other boat.

“SAILS!” Alec and Q turned in the direction the man was pointing. There on the horizon was the white sails of vessel.

“They wouldn’t be coming back to see if there are survivors?” Q asked trying to adjust his spectacles.

“I hope not.” Alec looked over at the other long boat. “Start rowing to her. She will be our only chance now.”

The two boats started the difficult job of rowing in the open ocean with large waves. The ship drew closer as the morning sun illuminated its sails. Alec looked again at the configuration of sails and masts.

“She’s English.” He said.

“Will we be welcome or are we to be arrested?” Q asked as he looked at the ship.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry.” Tanner said from the back of the boat. “That’s the Vauxhall. We are saved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always welcome. Suggestions too.


	21. Retribution

Retribution

Within two hours, the crew of the Skyfall was rescued. Of the seventy-nine members of the crew only twenty-five souls were saved. Mallory looked at the two Holmes brothers wondering what he had done to deserve this.

“We need to go after Renard,” Sherlock shouted at his brother.

“No, we have to save James. They are going to hang him!”

“Renard has the key. He will take it to Moriarty and England will be in jeopardy!”

Mallory shook his head. Listening to the two men was giving him more of a headache than a night in Barbados. “I thought Renard took Miss. Hooper, what is this key that you are speaking of?”

“Miss. Hooper, Molly, is the key. She knows something or has power over someone that will bring the destruction of England.” Sherlock explained rolling his eyes at the man. “We must stop him before he reaches Plymouth.

John stepped into the captain’s quarters with dry clothes for the two Holmes. He saw the two arguing and frustration on the Captain’s face. He was familiar with that look. He dropped the clothes on the table and placed his fists on his hips staring down the two arguing men. Sherlock stopped first noticing the scowl on John’s face. Quincy stopped turning to John.

“John you must agree with me.” Quincy pleaded.

“Since I have no idea what you both are discussing, I don’t know which one to agree with.”

Sherlock huffed in exasperation, then started to strip off his wet clothes. “Quincy has ordered the Captain to take the Vauxhall and chase after the Arma de Oro and save his pirate captain. Whereas I wish the Captain Mallory to make haste and capture the Electra before she reaches England with Miss. Hooper.”

John did not listen to Sherlock. His attention was watching Sherlock undress. First his shirt, revealing the pale skin of his chest, then his breeches and the sculpted muscles of his thighs and legs.

“Well, John your opinion. I’m right aren’t I?” Sherlock asked. John shook his head and mentally kicked himself.

“No, neither of you is right.”

“What?!” the two brothers shout simultaneously.

“This is Captain Mallory’s ship and he decides what to do, not you.”

“But John . . .” Sherlock started.

“Watson is correct.” Alec said from the door way. Everyone turned to watch the big Russian walk into the cabin. “This is Mallory’s ship, don’t presume to tell him what to do. But since everyone is giving the poor man advice, here is my two pence worth. Go after James.”

Q looked up into Alec’s face. The stress and anger were apparent. He took a step forward and raised his hand to grab Alec’s forearm. “But Molly. I thought . . . I thought you would want to rescue her.”

“I do. I want her safe more than you can imagine. But Renard needs to deliver her alive and well to England. He will keep her that way at least until then. Scaramanga does not need to keep James alive. He is the one in greater danger. Once we save him, we can rescue Molly. Then I will take her somewhere safe and no one will harm her again.”

Sherlock nodded his head. “Mr. Trevelyan in correct. Remarkably.” John shook his head and whispered _‘Not good’_ behind Sherlock’s back. “Captain Mallory. The Vauxhall is your ship but it would be in your best interest to take our recommendation and follow after and seize the Arma de Oro immediately. Of course remembering, our brother is Lord Holmes and our mother is Lady Mansfield Holmes.”

John knew Sherlock was desperate if you used his family as influence over someone. Mallory glared at the company in front of him.

“Well since you acknowledge the ship is actually mine.” He shouted out the passageway. “Harper, east by south east! The fastest course to Cadiz!”

*****

James Bond laid on the deck low in the hold of the Spanish ship. The iron shackles cut deep into his wrists and ankles. His body was covered in bruises and cuts. The blood dried brown and the bruise varied in color from blue black to a sickly yellow. He was having difficulty breathing and knew at least a few of his ribs were broken. One eye was swollen shut and the other, he could barely see out of from the edema.

The crew had spent a whole day beating him in front of Scaramanga. Whips and a chain had been used first. Then a belaying pin was used. The wooden club was what had broken James’ ribs. Scaramanga sat watching under a canopy while indulging in glass after glass of red wine. Wine the same color as James’ blood that spattered across the deck, blow after blow. James wondered now if he was going to make it Cadiz after all. In the three days since the beating, they had only brought him water twice and no food. He realized, as he coughed up more blood, that this may be the end of him as well as the Skyfall.

He let his memories wash over him, taking away the physical pain in his body. Memories of Q looking up at him as he laid over the young man. The heat and passion he could see in those jade green eyes. Q’s wondrous ruby lips, always just on the edge of a pout. And his hair that beg James to run his fingers through it. Night after glorious night, James was in that bed with that young man, his sprite, his Q. From the first moment he saw the boy sleeping on the edge of his bunk till their last night together, James craved after him. Q was his opium. His addiction. His salvation. James felt the tug against his ribs as his heart started beating faster. Q his salvation would not be saving James from this hell. James knew his beautiful sprite was dead.

The sound of running feet across wooden decks roused James from his memories and pulled him into the present. He slowly lifted himself off the deck and tried to sit up leaning against the bulkhead. He heard the sound of small feet running down the stairs to the hold his was in. The powder monkeys were running to the magazine with their leather satchels.

“What is it?” James shouted out to them. The boys kept running along. “Qué es”

“Los británicos” One of the boys shouted as they ran back up the ladder.

The British, why would a British ship engage the Spanish, James wondered. He leaned to rest his back on the wall. If Scaramanga was intelligent he wouldn’t fire on them and give them any reason to board. If they boarded they might find Bond. But then again, Bond was being taken to Cadiz to be hung as a pirate. The British might not interfere even if they knew he was here.

He heard the cannon volley from the British ship. It was distant and only a warning shot. Spain and England were presently allies so the ship wouldn’t fire on the Arma de Oro unless Scaramanga fired first.

The second volley from the British ship was closer and the intension of boarding was evident. James suddenly felt the Oro rock sideways from the cannon fire. The Oro was small and not up to a prolong fight with a full size British war ship. This might be fast. The Oro shuttered to port again with a second volley before the British ship returned fire. James could hear the crashing of cannon balls across the decks above him.

The powder monkeys ran down the stairs again and to the magazine. Within seconds they ran out and fled up the stairs. The Oro fired again. James couldn’t understand why the ship was trying to fight back instead of run. When the Oro attack him that night, it only took one round from Dalton and his cannons to make the Spaniard give up and flee. A full size British battle ship would be more powerful than the Skyfall was.

The British ship fired again. This time the damage was significant. James heard screams as the volley cut through the gun deck and across the upper decks, killing sailors everywhere. He heard the twisting of the mask as the canvas tangled in the rigging and fell to the deck. The massive timber deep in the ship groaning under the strain from up above.

The unknown British ship fired again, the balls splintering the decks and cutting through the crew. James tried to stand but his limbs where unable to hold his weight up. He slid back down the wall to the deck and hoped the boarding party would come down here. Maybe just maybe he could convince them to rescue him.

Above him James heard the moan and cries of the Spanish sailors. The sharp knock of Royal Marine boots on wooden decking was relief to James. He took in a deep breath, then almost passed out from the pain. He dropped his head down on to the bent knees and clinched his fists. The broken fingers of his left hand stung but not nearly as bad as his broken ribs.

The boots on the ladder were accompanied by the soft tread of bare feet. A British Marine and one of the Spanish powder monkeys came down the ladder to the hold James was chained in.

“Mr. Bond? Mr. Bond is that you?” a distinct Welsh accent asked the battered man.

“Yes, what ship are you from?” James’ voice horse and weak.

“HMS Vauxhall.” James leaned back and closed his eyes. Mallory would never let him live this down.

*****

Mallory, Q and Sherlock stood on the deck of the Arma de Oro as Scaramanga glared at them.

“How dare you fire on my ship Captain Mallory! Spain and England are alleys!”

“Sir, you attacked and sunk a British vessel carrying members of the Royal circle.” Mallory shouted back at the excited Spaniard.

“We attacked a pirate ship.”

“Captain Bond was transporting Quincy and Sherlock Holmes, brothers to Lord Mycroft Holmes, back to England to their family. He was not acting as a pirate.”

Scaramanga glared at Q. “He told me his name was Trevelyan.”

“Of course I would. Why would I let you know who I really was. You could have kidnapped me or my brother and held us for ransom.” Q was shaking. He wanted to leave the quarter deck and go search for James. Sherlock saw his brother’s turmoil and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder, steading him.

“We never give our true names when faced with cut throats.” Sherlock said in his deep baritone voice.

Scaramanga’s face twisted in anger. He grabbed for his cutlass at his side, but a Marine standing beside Mallory lifted his musket in answer. The Spaniard cursed then said in English.

“I can prove they were pirates. I have a chest of gold they took from Spanish treasure ships off the coast of Brazil last spring.”

“Bring it here.” Mallory said. Scaramanga called for the trunk to be brought up from his cabin. Q saw the large hump backed trunk and was relieved to see the lock still closed.

“That is my personal property. I want it back.”

“I told you they were pirates.” Scaramanga hissed back at them. Mallory looked down at the name on the trunk.

Quincy Alcott Holmes

The brass plaque on the lid of the trunk was oxidized but the name was still clear to read. Q knelt in front of the chest and remove a key that hung from a leather cord around his neck. Q opened the lock and lifted the lid of the trunk.

Books. Rows of books were covering the top of the box. Scaramanga looked at the books then up at Mallory. The Spaniard quickly knelt and pulled the first row of books away to see another row of books. He started pull them away only to expose a third row.

“Please stop. These are valuable books. My private library I was taking home with me.” Q said pushing the man away from his trunk. Q picked the books up that had been moved and carefully arranged them in the chest, then closed the lid.

“Scaramanga, you attacked a ship carrying emissaries from the Royal Court of England. You kidnapped their captain and stole from the ship. It is you who is a pirate and not Captain Bond. Where is HE?!” Mallory shouted at the man.

Just as Scaramanga climbed to his feet, the Marine carried James’ battered body up from the lower decks. He gently laid the beaten man to the deck and Q rushed over to him. Q leaned over afraid to touch the injured man but called out to him softly, trying to hold his tears back. Sherlock watched as his little brother hovered over the man he loved.

“James, James can you hear me. It’s Q. Please James say something.”

James tried to open the one eye lid still not swollen shut. “Q?” His voice raspy and faint.

“Oh God, in the name of all that is Holy, how could you do this to a man.” Q shouted as he turned on Scaramanga. The British officer Harper grabbed the young man and held him back.

“Get him on board now. Call the surgeon and Watson.” Mallory ordered. He turned back to Scaramanga, anger burning brightly in his face. “I will be notifying the ambassador to King Charles of Spain of your actions and that you have decide to abandon your post as Spanish Naval officer to become a pirate.” Mallory turned at shouted at his officer. “Harper, get the crew back aboard the Vauxhall.”

Sherlock moved quickly. He grabbed the pistol that was snug in Mallory’s belt and held the gun to Scaramanga’s face.

“HOLMES NO!” Mallory shouted.

“You did not know Captain Mallory, I am not like my brother Quincy. I’m not a good man. I’m sociopath and I’ve learned no one hurts those I love. No one.” He pulled the trigger. The black powder flashed and briefly blinded the men staring at the drama. Scaramanga’s head exploded out, and his blood splatted, covering the red velvet coat he wore.

Sherlock stepped back and tossed the gun in the air, catching the barrel. He turned and handed the gun back to the captain, grip first. “Thank you sir. I am at your discretion.” Sherlock walked over to Quincy and wrapped his arms around his younger brother and helped him cross over the plank back to the British ship, following the litter that was carrying James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments enjoyed.


	22. Recuperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me. It contains graphic description of injuries from torture. Please do not read if you have triggers to this. Also fluff and angst. I can't thank you all enough for the kudos and the comments. I realize that this AU has only a few fans but you all are the greatest. Thank you joining me on this journey.

Recuperations

Mallory had given Q and James a cabin to travel in. James was carefully laid down on the bunk and John began his examination. He and Q moved very slowly as they undressed James. Every inch of his body was injured. His knees were stiff and swollen. The fingers of his left hand had been broken as well as his ribs and his nose.

“Well it’s not the first broken nose,” Q tried to lighten the mood.

The two men removed James’ breeches and Q’s stomach lunged as he saw James’ groin. Apparently, the sailors of the Oro had repeatedly kick James there. His genitals were so swollen they were misshapen and black. Q’s mind snapped back to all the times he had seen James naked. How exquisite his lover was. The tall man with the tan skin over tight sculpted muscles. His beautiful thick cock that grew out from its nest of golden curls. The broken and damaged man in front of Q looked nothing like the lover he remembered.

Tears quietly streaked down his face as he watch John delicately exam James. Q was shaking as he wrapped his arms around his body. Forcing himself to look at the remains of his love. Sherlock stepped behind his brother and rested his arm over Quincy’s shoulder.

“John will save him. Don’t worry.” Sherlock whispered softly. “John is a better man than anyone else we know. He will bring James back to you.”

“I’m glad you did it.” Q whispered back. “Thank you.” Sherlock nodded.

John stood up and stepped back from the bunk. “He is very dehydrated. That’s the biggest problem. I don’t think he’s eaten in a while. The broken bones will mend, not a problem there. There is significant blood loss. I’m worried about internal injuries. We will just have to wait to see if there is any. As for the rest, Quincy we just need to wait until the swelling goes down and judge long term injuries.” John turned and looked and the young man being supported by his brother.

“I will talk to the ship’s cook and have him make a broth from salted beef. You will need to feed it to him every few hours. When he’s awake. Only a few ounces. That will help with the dehydration and blood loss.” Quincy nodded. “He will need to sleep sitting up. It will make it easier for him to breath with the broken ribs. Help me bath him and clean his wounds. Then any that are deep, we’ll stitch and bandage.”

“Uncle Desmond used honey and gun powder to prevent infection.” Quincy said.

“Your uncle sounds like a witch doctor.”

“No it really worked, I’ve used it on the crew.” Q suddenly remember most of Skyfall’s crew was now dead. He dropped his head and Sherlock pulled him closer.

“He is one big abrasion right now. We would have to dip him in a keg of honey to get everything. Let’s just get him cleaned up Quincy.” Q nodded and pulled away from Sherlock. “I’ll get some hot water and towels, after I talk to the cook.” John glanced up at Sherlock. The two men stared at each other for a moment then John left the cabin, opening his watch and glancing at the face.

Q went and stood over his captain watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His hand gently grasping James’.

“Quincy, explain the trunk of books.” Sherlock said from behind him. Q turned slightly and looked over at the large trunk sitting in the corner.

“What do you mean? It’s a trunk full of books.”

“The ‘History of Prussian Nobility’, a copy of Cromwell’s biography. No Quincy, tell me.”

Q let one corner of his mouth twitch in a crooked smile. He reached up and removed the leather strap that held the key and handed it to his brother.

“Look beneath the third layer of books.” Sherlock opened the chest and pulled the books out. Below the third row of books was the gleam of gold Spanish coins.

“How many?”

“Around seven thousand.” Q said without looking at his brother.

“That’s close to half an million pound sterling, Quincy.”

“Yes it was to be our retirement. James was thinking of quitting piracy. We were thinking of settling in the Americas or maybe Japan.”

“And he trusted you with the key?” Sherlock said as he returned the books covering the treasure.

“He loves me Sherlock.” The young man finally turned and looked at his brother. “And I love him.”

*****

It had been a long day. John had to twist James’ broken fingers to get them back into proper alignment, as Q held James’ shoulder and Sherlock held the injured man’s legs. Q spent over an hour gently washing James’ damaged skin and dressing the wounds. James had twice been awake long enough to let Q pour the salty broth into his mouth. Afterwards, James drank a whole pitcher of water, but he had yet spoken a word.

It was just before dawn a day later. Sherlock and John had slept in the crew quarters in hammocks. The remaining crew of the Skyfall slept on the decks deep in the hold. James slept in the bunk, sitting up with a board behind his back for support. Q stayed awake watching James. Watching the rise and fall of the sleeping man’s chest, watching the occasional twitch of pain in the man’s expression.

The scene reminded Q of the first night he met James. Uncle Desmond and he had removed a bullet from James’ shoulder. Q was told to sit up with the man as he fought off a fever. That night James kissed Q in his delirium. It was the first kiss Q ever received. The young man knew he never wanted anyone else to kiss him but James.

Q’s hand slipped under James and gently squeezed it. “The first night I met you, Alec told me he would kill me if you died. If you die now, James, I don’t want to go on living. So just like that night, my life is in your hands. If you want me to live, you must come back to me. You must live.” He leaned down and kissed the back of James’ hand. “Do that for me. Please do that.”

Q laid his head down on the edge of the bunk and finally fell asleep as the sun started to climb out of the sea and lighten the sky. He didn’t hear the soft knock on the door as John and Sherlock came to check on them. The two men stepping into the cabin watching the sleeping captain and his devoted sprite.

Sherlock could not imagine the scene in front of him. He never believed a Holmes could show that much emotion. He envied his brother.

“See it’s possible.” John said as he pulled his watch out of his pocket and opened it.

“What’s possible, John?”

“That one of you Holmes’s can have feelings, have some sentiment.”

Sherlock didn’t answer his friend but stood silently watching his brother. John closed his watch with a snap.

“John your watch was in the water it won’t work now, but that is the third time I’ve seen you check it.”

“Mary’s miniature is pasted to the back of the cover.” He opened the watch case again and passed it to Sherlock. The tall man glanced down at the woman with pale blue eyes and fair skin. She had a narrow nose and sharp jawline. Her hair was the color of straw.

“She looks odd John.” Sherlock huffed.

“The painting was in salt water, Sherlock. It warped a little.” John said exasperated snapping the watch close and slipping it back into his pocket. “Sherlock, I know Quincy is glad you killed that bastard Scaramanga, but I’m not.”

Sherlock twisted his head slightly to see John in his periphery. The doctor was staring at him.

“You shouldn’t worry yourself.”

“Sherlock, Mallory will be putting the shooting in his log. The Admiralty will know that you shot a man while under a flag of truce. You will be executed for it!”

“Only a sailor would be executed, I’ll just be sent to prison.”

“SHERLOCK!” John whispered harshly.

“It will suit your purposes fine, Dr. Watson. I will be incarcerated and not around to interfere with you and your wife.”

“Sherlock how can you think I would want you to leave?”

“WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?” James called out from the bunk. Both men quickly looked over at the bed. “The last thing I want to hear when I’m waking up next to my sprite is the two of you arguing.”

Q lifted his head up and looked at James’ face. One eye was still swollen shut but the other was open slightly. James’ bright blue iris could be seen. He was smiling down at Q.

“Oh James, you’re alright! You’re going to make it!” Q shouted.

“Of course little sprite. Nothing makes me feel better than waking up seeing you beside me.”  

*****

Bond slipped in and out of consciousness the first two days. Q never left his side. It was two weeks after Bond’s rescue before he could stand and walk again unaided. Another month before the swollen and injured parts of his body looked normal again. Urinating still hurt like hell, and he had to be careful taking deep breaths. John had talked to the two men that they should not attempt any activities. Q thinned his lips and nodded. James scowled at the doctor. Q refused to sleep in the bunk beside James, instead made a pallet for himself on the floor.

Late one night, James was already in bed, when Q walked in bring fresh water to bathe. James slowly pulled himself up and leaned back against the head board. Q reached over to blow out the oil lamp.

“You need to go to sleep. You’re tired.” He said as he lowered the wick and leaned over to blow out the flame.

“Don’t.” Q stopped and looked at James. His eyes were burning brightly in the dim light. James’ body was tense.

“What is it? Are you in pain?” Q stepped forward. “Do you want me to get John?”

“No, don’t get anyone. Just . . . just I want to watch you.”

Q cocked his head to the side and looked at the man.

“James you need to rest. John said you should get, you know, excited yet.”

“I don’t care what John said. I want you. I want to touch you and taste you. Let me see you again.”

Q took a quick sudden breath. He missed James so much it was painful. He could hear the desperation in James’ voice.

“James.” Q sounded raspy and needy. It only heightened James’ hunger.

“Let me see you. Take off your clothes.”

In the soft light of the oil lamp, Q untied the cuffs of his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. James’ eyes raked over the young man’s chest. His narrow shoulders and chest. The rib cage undulating under the blemish free skin. His dusky nipples puckering already. The concave of this abdomen that led the dips and curves of his v. James had run his fingers over all that skin once, but Q stood too far away for him to touch this time.

 “All of it. Let me see all of you.” James voice was deep and wanting.

Q slowly released each button of his breeches. The sound of the fabric rustling seemed unusually loud in the cabin. The breeches slipped from his grasp and slid down his narrow hips. Q kicked his boots off and his clothes. He untied his pants and slipped his thumbs under the waist band and paused. He looked up at James and saw the older man lick his lips and nod. Q pulled his pants down. His cock was half hard and nestled in his dark curls.

“God, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” James gasped. “From the moment I first saw you I wanted you. I wanted to taste your lips and run my hands down your body.”

“James, please.” Q wasn’t sure what he was begging for. For James to stop or to keep going.

“Touch yourself. Let me see you.” Q moaned and closed his eyes. “Watching you come is the most erotic thing in this world. Touch yourself.”

Q shook his head and clinched his fists. “No James, you can’t get excited.”

“Just looking at you is a feast. I’m a hunger man, feed me, my sprite.”

Q’s body was trembling. He brought his hand up to his throat and squeezed slightly. He steadied himself and let his hand slowly move down his body to his nipples. His palm slowly rubbed over one, till he tipped his head back, looking up. The hand traveled down his body and paused briefly over the curls before moving to the dip in his hip, where his other hand came up and mirrored the movement of the first on the opposite side and rubbed up and down the dip. James moaned as he watched.

“I wanted you that night I first met you James. I wanted to kiss you over and over again. The way your skin moved over mine.” Q’s hand moved up and took hold of his hardening cock. “I wanted to taste you, to have you in my mouth. The way you cover my tongue, your taste. Oh bloody fucking hell, I want to you to come all over my body.”

“Keep going,” James whispered as he watched his sprite start to come undone.

“The way it feels when you fuck me. So deep. You make me feel possessed. Owned. Yours.” He started stroking harder, letting his thumb rub over his slit every few strokes. He twisted at the end of each stroke pulling the foreskin back over the top. His legs were trembling. “You fill me. I want you to take me. To fuck me so deep, I feel you as I walk. Oh fuck James! Oh fuck! I need to come!”

“Not yet, keep going. You’re so beautiful. Keep going.”

“Your fingers, your tongue, your cock, they all pull me apart. I want you so bad. Oh please, I want you fuck me. James, please?!”

“Come little sprite.”

Q bit down on a moan and his hand was covered with his cum. His eyes squeezed shut and his body shuddering. Slowly, he stopped stroking himself and opened his eyes. Catching the lust he saw in James. Q rushed across the cabin and climbed into the bunk next to the man.

“James, I love you. I will always love you. No matter what happens, no matter what is left of us. I will never leave you. Never.”

James reached up and let his finger smooth down the side of Q’s face. A sad smile looked back at up at Q.

“Will this be enough for you?”

“You are enough for me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome.


	23. Arrival in Plymouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter, enjoy.

Arrival in Plymouth

Renard kept Molly locked in her cabin for the two month trip to England. She had food and water and clothing delivered, and as many books as she wanted to read, but she was not allowed out on the deck. By the time the ship arrived in English waters, Molly had lost her tan, and she was pale again.

When Renard finally allowed her to leave her cabin, she looked out over the deck and at the sloop sailing up towards the Electra. The smaller sailing craft came out and met the Electra fifty miles from the southeast coast of England. The Dublin, lowered her sails and moved carefully beside the Electra as mooring lines were tossed over to the craft.

Renard took Molly’s arm and led her to the rail to look down into the Dublin. A man climbed up the ladder and jumped over the rail, landing in front of Molly. She looked up at the man, he was tall, over six foot. His reddish blonde hair whipped by the early winter winds blowing in across the Bristol Channel. He was broad in the shoulders and had a square jaw. His dark oilskins were wet from the sea spray as a storm started to sweep in from the Irish Sea.

“Best get her on board as fast as we can.” The man said to Renard as he looked Molly up and down.

“Not until I get paid, Moran.” Renard said grabbing Molly’s elbow and pulling her back from the tall man.

She looked up between the two of them. “You’re not Moriarty?”

Moran glared at her then at Renard. “What did you tell her?”

“He didn’t tell me anything. Mallory from the Vauxhall told me about Moriarty,” she lied. Moran stared down at her. “The Admiralty knows about him and his plan.”

“Bollocks!”

She pulled her shoulders back and pushed her chin forward. “Yes, best to let me go now than continue.”

The man looked her up and down again then a wicked smile crossed his lips. “They don’t know a bloody thing. Good guess with the name, though, but that is all you know. Get her in the boat so I can get her to the boss.”

“My money!” Renard shouted.

“In my boat.” He said with a laugh in his voice. He reached out and grabbed Molly’s arm and pulled her sharply towards to him. He pulled her over the rail and waited for Renard to join them. The three watched as the crew passed a wooden chest up onto the deck. Renard kneeled down and opened the chest. Small muslin bags filled the box. Renard opened one bag and silver coins slipped from it and into his palm.

“As agreed. A hundred and fifty pieces of silver.” Moran said.

Renard stood and kicked the lid close. “Take the whore and enjoy. I look forward to working with our mutual friend again.”

Moran wrapped his arm around Molly’s waist and lifted her as if she was nothing. It startled her, only Alec had ever touched her like that. She gasped as he lifted her over the railing and dropped her into the arms of one of his crew. Within minutes the Dublin was sailing away from the Electra, both of her sails raised and fighting the wind out of the Channel.

A day later, Molly stepped off the Dublin and onto the pier at Plymouth. A hansom cab was waiting for them at the end of quay. Moran kept his grip on Molly’s arm as he pushed her along. There sitting in the cab waiting for them was a woman as thin and small as Molly. Her hair pale yellow and her nose small and narrow.

“Hello Mary, so nice to finally meet you.” The woman said to Molly. “Please call me Amanda. I know we will get along beautifully.”

*****

The first big storm of the season kept the HMS Vauxhall from the harbor for a full two days. Sherlock paced the deck in borrowed oilskins, his dark hair whip by the wind. John repeatedly told him to come below, but Sherlock refused.

"John don't you understand. Every minute we delay in getting in is another minute Moriarty has to accomplish his plan. We must dock. I must get to Molly and stop him!"

"Catching pneumonia won't help you catch Moriarty, get below now!" John shouted above the wind. "Will set anchor tomorrow. Go below!"

Sherlock marched off the quarter deck and down the ladders to Quincy's and Bond's cabin. He banged on the door before he burst into the room.

"Damn it Sherlock, why don't you wait to be invited!?" Q shouted at his brother. Sherlock looked confused at his brother.

Q sat beside the bed next to James who was trying to sit up. The bruises were gone, but his left eye lid was still puffy, reducing James' vision. The fingers of his left hand were now constantly curled, but he had regained the use of them. John insisted he keep his ribs wrapped tightly for another few weeks. Physically James was healing. Emotionally, he still didn't allow Q to out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

"Why wait, it's highly unlikely that I would be interrupting an assignation."

Q rolled his eyes, as John cleared his throat. James glared at the man with daggers in his eyes. After two months, it was still unclear if James groin would heal completely from the torture, let alone be functional again.

"Sherlock, just shut up please." Q groaned as he turned to help James stand.

"We need to make plans for what to do when we are finally allowed off this retched boat." Sherlock said to his brother. Q looked over his shoulder at him.

"Plans? James and I already have plans. We go and see Mycroft and Lady Em. Get the pardon and the Letter and leave. That's it."

"What? No! You need to come with me. We need to track Moriarty down and stop him."

"No Sherlock that is your folly. Not ours. James and I are not staying." Q turned and looked into his lover's eyes. The young man smiled softly, as James brought his hand up and rested it on the man's cheek.

Sherlock huffed and turned to John. "Tell them John we are going to need their help. You and I can't do this alone."

"You will be doing it alone. I will be on the first coach back to London and my Mary. It's over for me, Sherlock." John turned and left his friend. Sherlock watched as John disappeared amongst the men milling around beneath the decks of the Vauxhall.

*****

The next morning the sun shown weakly through the pale gray clouds. The sea calmed enough for the Vauxhall to be brought into the harbor and moored at the pier. Sherlock, John, Q and James were all on the deck as the lines were tied fast and the gang plank was attached.

Before anyone realized what was happening, Sherlock took off running down the wooden slats and leaped. Landing on the stone quay. He took off running down the quay dodging between the workers there.

"Sherlock?!" John took off after his friend but was stopped at the gang plank by a sailor.

"No sir, you must wait until we are given permission to leave." The young sailor said holding John back. Q stepped quickly to the rail but lost his brother in the commotion on the docks. Then he saw him. Tall and lean in dark green over coat. A tri-corner hat and black walking stick. Mycroft was walking up the dock to the ship. Q looked at his brother. He was older than Q remembered and somehow he seemed to be even thinner. The young man pulled back from the rail and brushed into James who was standing behind him. Q turned and looked up into James eyes. The older sailor could see the tears starting to form and doubt taking root.

"I will be beside you the whole time. Don't worry, my love, we will be fine." James whispered as Mycroft stepped up onto the gang plank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the comments I've been getting. You all are great, thank you for your support and encouragement. Look forward to hearing your opinion on the up coming chapters. James meeting Lady Em and Molly meeting Moriarty.


	24. Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James finally meets Q mother Lady M. Not a very happy home coming.

Family Reunion

James and Q with Mallory were led into the Royal Citadel in Plymouth. The gray stone walls towered up above the men, the battlements bristling with cannons. A small detachment of British regulars accompanied the men. The walls of the fort had stood for almost two hundred years against the foes from the land, and the forces of the sea. Even this late in the year, the grass on the Hoe was still green and a sharp contrast to the ancient fort.

Mycroft led the small parade to a two story building with a whitewashed façade. He held the door as his brother Quincy, James and Mallory stepped into the warmth of the building. The foyer was brightly lit for midmorning; the candles were burning on the chandelier hanging high in the hall. He paused in the hall way and turned to the men.

“Captains Mallory and Bond you will remain here.” Mycroft said.

“I will be accompanying Q.” James said in a mild voice.

Mycroft tipped his head back and pushed his chin out staring at the blonde man. Q stepped closer to James.

“James and I will not be separated. Proceed Mycroft.”

A sneer slipped across Mycroft’s face. Which disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “As you wish little brother. Captain Mallory, you will remain out here and I will discuss the fact you failed to maintain possession of my other brother later.”

Mallory remained stiff in his stance. He nodded sharply and stepped back, grasping his hat under his arm and his hand resting on the scabbard of his sword.

Mycroft knocked twice on the dark oak door, then looked up at his brother. “Come,” the voice was clear and precise, strong and firm. James could sense Q tense beside him. Mycroft opened the door and stepped back for the two men to enter before him.

Standing in the middle of the room was Lady Mansfield Holmes, Lady Em. James found her smaller than he had expected, having seen the height of her sons. She was barely over five foot. Small bodied and pale skin. Her white hair was streaked with silver. She wore a dark brown taffeta dress that made her blue eyes shine out brightly. They were sharp and intelligent eyes, just like her sons. Her face was the same shape as Q’s, except hers was slightly fuller than his. Her jaw set in determination like Mycroft’s.

When she saw James enter, her eyes narrowed for a moment, then she saw Quincy and her whole face lightened and smiled. The smile reminded James of a mischievous child.

“Quincy, my darling.” But she didn’t rush to him, nor hold out her arms to welcome him back. “I’ve missed you so.”

“Lady Em.” Q’s voice was steady but soft. James leaned toward him.

“I am you mother, Quincy.”

“Yes, you are.” The two stood staring, each refusing to take the step forward and submit to the other. The bright warm expression the woman had disappeared, and the cold stern face reappeared.

“You are still unable to address me as such? Quincy aren’t you tired of your little tiff?”

James stepped forward and eased over so he was standing slightly in front of Q. Placing himself between the two. A blatant defensive move, not lost on the two Holmes.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a tiff, mu’m.” James said, his face remaining passive.

She cocked her head slightly to look up at the blonde haired man. “You must be James Bond, formally of the His Majesty’s Royal Naval?”

“Mu’m.” He nodded his head at her.

“And what pray tell are you doing here with my youngest child?”

“I am hardly a child, Lady Em.”

“As long as you act like this, then I shall call you a child. And where is Sherlock? Wasn’t he with you in Jamaica?”

Mycroft cleared his throat. “Sherlock was traveling with Quincy and his captain, but as soon as the ship docked here he jumped ship, chasing after the individual we discussed earlier.”

“You lost Sherlock again, Mycroft?” She asked crossing her arms.

“I did not lose him again. I did not have him. Quincy lost him.”

“No one lost your son, Lady Em. He chose to be elsewhere.” James said in the same passive voice. She turned back to him again. Her bright blue eyes assessing the man. James fought to remain still under her stare. “You wished to speak to your son, I suggest you speak. Otherwise, Q and I have business with the Admiralty.”

“Well, aren’t you a cold hearted bastard.” James head snapped back looking down at the small woman. Her voice razor sharp. “Any man who wouldn’t want revenge on those who had hurt the ones he love would be.”

“Mu’m” James voice began to take an edge to it. This was the woman who ruled the Royal Navy from behind the scenes. This was the woman men of position feared and coward too. James just wanted to hit the bitch.

“I wish to speak to my son alone.” Q stepped around James’ shoulder and moved closer to his mother.

“No, whatever needs to be said may be said in front of James.”

“Quincy.”

“No.”

The two held each other’s gaze refusing to blink or back way. James had never seen Q so strong before. He couldn’t comprehend how the young man just stood calmly under the woman’s cold calculating stare.

After what seemed hours of tension but were mere seconds, the woman nodded and stepped back.

“I see you have changed, Quincy. You have matured on your adventure. Desmond was right. You needed to have a chance to prove yourself away from my influence. But I need you back here. I need both you and Sherlock back here now. Mycroft has done everything to keep this family’s position safe and secure. He has done a masterful job, but now there are outside forces pushing in on us and it is more than even your brother can handle alone. He needs to have both of your help, your expertise in maintaining that security.”

“So you wanted me back for the safety of your position and not because you missed me.” Q whispered. James could see the young man’s shoulders slump. He reached forward and took Q’s hand, lightly squeezing it. Lady Em heard her son, and her expression changed. It was almost as if she had been slapped.

“Quincy?”

“Let’s go James. There’s no reason to stay.” He turned his back to her.

“If you leave I will have you written out of the wills.” She snapped back. “You will be penniless!”

“Good.” Q pulled James to the door. He reached and grabbed the door handle, when Lady Em moved and reached out for him. James spun quickly and blocked her from touching Q.

“Quincy! Please don’t leave son. Please! I’ve missed you. I want you to stay. Please can we just talk?”

“Lady Em,” he paused, trying to keep his emotions in control. “Mother, I will be leaving with the man I love now. Good bye.” He opened the door.

“James help me! I’m not evil! I miss my sons!” Her voice broke. “I’ve made mistakes, many mistakes regarding my sons. Don’t think I haven’t been hurt too.” James stopped and held tight to Q, stopping the man from fleeing.

“Q, just one more time. You have the chance. Give her one more moment.” Q turned and looked into James’ eyes. “I know we will be together. You won’t leave me. I also know you don’t want to leave things with them like this. Just one more chance.” James stepped forward and crowded into Q’s space. He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to Q’s cheek, then leaned back. “Then we will go. If you choose, we will never see them again.”

Q nodded and moved around James, stepping back into the room. Q looked at his mother and saw something he had not seen ever. Tears. She was crying. James closed the door and the four people sat down and finally talked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome.


	25. Baxter Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Moriarty, Sherlock and Alec. Enjoy

Baxter Street

Sherlock sat at the table in the back of the tavern, near the door leading to a dank alley. The smell of sewage and stale sweat hung heavy by the door. He leaned back against the wall watching the crowd of drunk people in front of him. The sailors, and whores, the misfits, and deserters. It was a hodge-podge of decadence and need. By the door was a shuddered window that occasionally Sherlock would lean back and cock his head near. Then he was lean forward and cough like he had consumption, sit back up and drink from the heavy metal tankard.

Alec watched him. He had seen the man darting in and out of alleys and streets in Plymouth for an hour before he came in here. Sherlock collapsed at the table and with his coughing, he had cleared the other patrons away within minutes. And there he sat, lulling back and forth as if drunk, coughing; then leaning back to the window, closing his eyes and stilling his movements. After the fourth time he did, Alec stood and slid the wench from his lap, dropping some coins into her hand. He walked purposefully over to Sherlock and sat down opposite him at the warped wooden table.

“You’re good at pretending aren’t you?” Alec whispered.

“Shut up and leave!” Sherlock hissed in a whisper, before his head lulled forward and fell to the table top. Alec reached forward and grabbed the man’s hair. Pulling, he lifted Sherlock’s head so he could look into the man’s face.

“I have questions. You can find Molly. I want to help.” He whispered into the drunken expression of Sherlock.

“Then act like you are going to pull me into the alley.”

A wicked smile crossed over Alec’s face. “Am I allowed to punch you too?”

“If you make it look good.”

Alec’s left hand had a good strong grip on Sherlock’s hair when the right fist crashed into Sherlock’s cheek. Not Alec’s hardest punch, but definitely one of his most satisfying hits. He pulled Sherlock to his feet, the man wobbled and collapsed into the tall Russian.

“Let’s go have so fun in the alley, you and me.” He said loud enough the patrons near him heard. “Let’s see how tight your arse is.” He winked at one of the other sailors as he pulled Sherlock towards the back door.

In the alley he pushed Sherlock hard, the man fell across the slick cobbles and crashed into the brick walls of the building opposite. Turning to face Alec, Sherlock slowly slid down the wall and fell to the ground. Alec reached down and grabbed the man’s shoulder and pulled him back up to his feet and dragged him down the alley away from the busy street.

When they were in a secluded corner of the blind alley, Alec pressed Sherlock’s front into a wall and pressed his chest against Sherlock’s back. The dark haired man groaned and let his head fall back onto Alec’s shoulder. Alec wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s waist and held him there.

“Nice act. What are you doing here?” Alec whispered into Sherlock’s ear.

“As you guessed, looking for Molly.”

“Tell me how you’re going to find her in a piss bucket like you were in? I thought this Moriarty of yours was some genius. Not very smart being there.” Alec’s hands shifted down and neared Sherlock’s breeches in case anyone was still looking at them.

“He is a genius, a very dangerous genius. No he wouldn’t be in a place like that, and neither would Miss Hooper.” Sherlock whispered back. “I was meeting my contacts. They were relaying information to me through the window.”

“But?”

“But you better slowly step back away from me now if you don’t want to be hurt.” Sherlock said in a normal tone of voice.

Alec laughed. “You?! Hurt me? Bugger off.”

“No not me, but them.” Sherlock nodded his head back toward the entrance to the blind alley. There stood about ten young boys. Roughly the same age as the powder monkeys. Some had clubs, one a broken bottle. The tallest boy had a thin bladed knife.

“You’re fucking kidding me. Who are they?” Alec released his hold on Sherlock and turned to face the mob of boys. “Get out of here you little twinks! Get out of here before I hurt you!” he shouted at them.

“We’s be hurt’n you, gent. Leave Mr. Holmes alone.” The tall boy with the knife said standing his ground to the big Russian.

“Don’t worry Wiggins, this is a friend of mine.” Sherlock said dusting himself off.

“Dr. Watson?” the boy asked.

“No, another friend. What news have you for me?”

“Albert saw a cab pick up the woman you’s be asking about. Small, brown hair, pretty.”

“When?”

“Three days ago. Tell’em Alby.” The smallest boy stepped forward and looked the two men up and down. He was younger, maybe eight, and filthy. He had bright ginger hair and thin pale face.

“You said you pay me fifty p if saw her.” His voice was shaky.

“Yes, tell me.” Sherlock stepped forward and looked down at the boy. Wiggins walked forward and wrapped his arm around Albert’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, Alby. Tell’em.”

“She was with a big man, big like him.” He pointed at Alec. “He was scary looking. A scar over his left cheek. She was wearing a black coat over a grey skirt. She was pale and had brown hair. Big brown eyes. She got off a sloop. The Dublin. He had her by the arm and pushed her down the quay to the cab. There was a woman in the cab waiting for them. I snuck on the back and it went to Baxter Street, 105 Baxter.”

“What did the other woman look like?” Sherlock asked excitedly.

“She was pretty too. Thin nose and yellow hair. The color of straw.” Sherlock looked up and stared off for a moment. Then dropped his attention back to the boys.

“Did they say anything?”

“Yes the yellow haired woman call the man, moron.”

“Moron or Moran?” Sherlock asked.

“Moran!” Albert’s face lit up, “that was it Moran. She called the dark haired woman Mary.”

Sherlock drove his hand deep into his pocket and pulled at a hand full of coins. “Here a pound coin for each of you and a two pound for Albert. Good job Wiggins.”

“Thank’ ya Mr. Holmes. Do you want me and the boys to take care of . . .” he nodded his head over at Alec. The big Russian almost barked in laughter.

“No, no, I have need of him.”

Wiggins tipped his hat and the boys disappeared down the alley and out into the crowded streets.

“You know that is more money than those boys will see in a month.” Alec said following Sherlock out of the alley. “How do you know they told you the truth?”

“Sebastian Moran, they described him accurately. He is Moriarty’s right hand man.” He looked up and down the crowded street and started walking further into Plymouth. “If she is still here, maybe we can rescue her before they can use her.”

*****

Molly sat in the chair staring into the burning wood in the grate. She sat shivering in the small room waiting. She was not crying, she was done crying. Molly was resigned to the fact she had betrayed England.

Three days earlier, when she was brought to this town house by Amanda and Moran, Molly had no idea why she was so important to their plan. As the big man dragged her from the hansom cab and up the stairs, Molly was determined not to be scared. Not to allow these people to intimidate her. _‘What would Alec think, if I let them scare me now? I’m a pirate’s woman. A pirate in my own right. So what if Alec and I really hadn’t made love yet. I was his.’_ She thought to herself, then the memory of the sinking ship rushed into her mind. She bowed her head, Molly swore that for Alec’s sake she would be strong.

Moran pull Molly into the front sitting room and in front of a well-dressed man. He was only two or three inches taller than Molly, with black hair and very dark eyes. He had a smooth face with pleasant expression.

“Hello, Mary Margaret. I’m so very pleased to finally make your acquaintance.” The man had a slight hint of an Irish accent. He smiled but it didn’t reach all the way to his eyes and made Molly shrink away. “I hope your trip back home wasn’t too difficult. Pirates can be so bothersome.”

Molly nodded but did not speak. The man walked around Molly appraising what he saw. Moran and Amanda stood at the door blocking it from anyone entering or leaving.

“She’s heard of you.” Moran said.

“Oh she has, and pray tell little Mary Margaret, what do you know about me?”

Molly’s mouth was suddenly dry. She wanted to speak, but her voice broke with the first syllable. “Ah . . . you are Moriarty. You are a criminal and your organization works all over the world. You are responsible for Sherlock Holmes’ suicide two years ago. Now you want me to help you harm England.”

Moriarty’s eyes sparkled. His smile grew and this time it included his whole face. It was even more terrifying than before.

“Oh very good little Mary. How wonderful you are? Who told you all that information?”

“Captain Mallory and John Watson.” She said lying.

“There is no way Captain Mallory would know that much and John Watson is to slow. He wouldn’t have put the pieces together. Who told you?” He stepped closer to her. His eyes darkened and he shouted directly at her face. “WHO TOLD YOU!?”

“HOLMES!” She gasped. “Quincy Holmes. He was on the Vauxhall.”

“He was?”

“Watson was sent to bring him home to his family. He was with us.” She whispered.

“Oh how very interesting. I will have to make a point of visiting the young man when I am done with my little venture.” He turned away from her and stepped over to a small round table. There was a quill and paper resting on the table with a small ink well. He held the chair for Molly and said. “Please sit, you need to do a little thing for me.”

She refused to move. Moran stepped up behind her and grabbed both arms, pushing her hard to the table. Molly was forced down in the chair as Moriarty leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

“Darling Mary Margaret, you are going to write a letter to your father.” She stilled listening to the man. “You will tell him that if he ever wants to see his little darling Mary again he will follow the directions of the man who brings him this letter.” Moriarty leaned forward and picked up the quill and held it out to her. Molly shook her head no. “Mary Margaret if you do not do this, then I will let Sebastian break each and every one of your fingers in left hand. If for some reason you still refuse, he will start on your wrist and then move up your arm.”

Tears silently ran down Molly’s face. She shook her head no. Moran stepped forward and grabbed her left hand.

“Oh Mary, this will be an enjoyable afternoon.” Moriarty said as Moran snapped her small bones.

After an hour, Molly sat writing a letter to Colonel Wallace Hooper on Elba. Her left hand laid limp in her lap, bruised and misshapen. Her throat raw from her screams and her eyes burned with tears. She wrote to her father of her fear that the men holding her would kill her if he did not do as they asked. She begged him to help her and to come and rescue her.

Moriarty sat opposite her looking down at the paper, smiling. His eyes almost black and his body weaving slightly side to side. Sebastian Moran, the brute stood near the fireplace smoking, just waiting for the next order to hurt the defenseless woman.

“Very well done Mary Margaret.” Moriarty said pulling the letter way from her as she finished signing it. He read it quickly, then smiled at her. “Now for the final proof, something to convince your father that we really do have his lovely daughter. Sebastian?”

The man pushed himself off the mantel and moved over to Molly. He grabbed her and pulled her out of the chair. Molly fought against his grip with her one good hand but he squeezed so tight her pale skin reddened. He shook her hard, forcing her hair to fall free from it’s bun.

Molly felt someone grab her hair and pull. The sound of the shears cutting through her locks was raspy and sharp. Molly gasped and slumped forward into Moran’s chest. She twisted to look over her shoulder to see Amanda stand there holding the long silver shears in her hand, and the long soft curls of Molly’s hair in the other. There was a roaring in Molly’s ears and her limbs felt weak and disconnected. Molly slipped down to the floor, Moran thick hands still wrapped around her thin wrist.

Molly woke in the room she sat in now. Her hand was bandaged and swollen. The pain was intense. In the last three days she had not seen Moran, Moriarty or Amanda. Only people she had seen were the oriental house keeper who brought her, her food, and the several guards, who held her prisoner. But she was not making any attempt to flee. Why would she? She had betrayed England, and more important she had betrayed Alec.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always welcomed and enjoyed.


	26. Baxter Street Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my lovelies.

Baxter Street Part Two

Sherlock and Alec stood across the street from 105 Baxter Street. The white town house stood three stories tall and looked out over a wrought iron fence onto the street. The oak door was painted dark green and the windows were curtained.

“Why are we standing out here!?” Alec whispered sharply. “Molly could be in there.”

The two men were slumped against a plastered wall, looking no different than any other vagrant in the more fashionable neighborhood.

“Yes I believe she’s in there, but where in there, I don’t know. We need to deduce before we just barge in there.” Sherlock whispered back. The tall thin man pushed himself off the wall and started walking away. Alec looked at the house then followed Sherlock down between the houses to the back and the walled gardens. Sherlock moved between the various houses on the Baxter Street, pausing and looking. Occasionally sniffing the air. After a half hour, Sherlock pulled himself over the back wall of 107 Baxter and dropped lightly into the grass of the garden. Alec dropped to his feet next to him in seconds.

“Were in the wrong garden.”

“No were not. This house is empty. The residents are away, they’ve been gone for several days. We can get to the roof and leap over next door and enter through their roof.” Sherlock knelt by the garden door and studied the lock. He pulled a small leather satchel from his pocket and opened it, removing two thin metal picks.

“Why not just go through the front door.”

“There are at least three guards and one oriental house keeper at 105.” Sherlock slipped the picks into the lock and started twisting one.

“Oriental house keeper?”

“The refuses from the kitchen has trace scents of ginger, Tamron and five spice. Also I saw at least three shadows of different male individuals through the shades.”

“What about Molly?”

“Well she would be in that room on the third floor. The one in the back.” Alec looked up but the windows were dark.

“How do you know? The room is dark.”

“The room is not dark, there are boards coving the windows. Around the side I noticed light slipping around them. She would be in there. We could sneak in and retrieve her before they even know we are there.” The lock clicked and Sherlock opened the door. The two men rushed inside and ran up the stairs to the attic. Sherlock looked around and found the window leading to the roof and the two men were out in the cold night air within seconds.

The distance between the two buildings was less than six feet but the drop to the street was over fifty feet. Sherlock moved the far side of the roof and ran across, leaping into the air and landing silently on the far roof. Alec looked at him shaking his head. Then the Russian copied his movements and stood beside Sherlock on the roof.

“Molly won’t be able to make that jump.” Alec said as they silently opened the attic window.

“No, we will have to revise our plans.” Sherlock said. Alec let his hand slip down and into his left boot. He pulled an eight inch long knife from the calf of the boot. Gripping it tightly he moved in front of Sherlock.

“Plan revised.” Alec said, leading down into the house.

Molly sat staring into the fire when she heard the lock on the door being turned. She didn’t turn around when the door opened. It was going to be Shan, the house keeper, bring her her dinner. Molly heard the footsteps enter the room and door close.

The hand wrapped around her face and tightened down on her mouth. Molly eyes widened and she tried to pull away. Tried to scream. Another hand wrapped around her body and lifted her off the chair, pulling her body close to strong chest behind her.

“Molly, my little kitten, shh, I’m here now.” Alec whispered into her ear.

Molly started to shake violently. Her mind twisted at the sound of that voice. _It couldn’t be, no it couldn’t be._ Molly fought harder in his grip. Someone was tricking her. They were cruelly using Alec’s own words to drive her insane. She screamed into the hand and twisted trying to fight away from the man.

“No Molly, it’s me, truly.” Alec spun her in his arms, keeping his hand firmly over her mouth. “See its me. I didn’t drown. I’m alive. I’m here, for you.”

Tears filled Molly’s eyes as she pushed forward wrapping her arms around the tall Russian. He removed his hand from her mouth and pulled her tight to his chest. Just holding each other as her tears were soaked into his shirt.

“Oh my Molly, I’m here. You’re safe now.”

“Alec I’m sorry, I tried, please forgive me, I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Shh, shh, nothing to forgive. I have you now, you’re safe.” He pulled her back from his chest and looked down into her face. His hands reaching up to cup her cheeks. His glance traveled up and down her face, then falling on the hair that now covered his hand. He lightly brushed away the short stands and looked questioningly at Molly.

“They cut it to prove to my father they had me.” She whispered.

“Well they don’t have you now.” He whispered back pulling her tight to his chest.

“We need to leave now,” Sherlock said from the doorway. Molly and Alec looked at him then Alec grabbed her hand to pull her along. Molly cried out and collapsed down. Alec spun rapidly and saw the bandage.

“Molly?!”

“They broke my fingers to force me to write to my father.” She whimpered. Anger bled into Alec’s vision. His body shook with it. He leaned down and gently picked Molly up off the floor.

“Holmes take her. She doesn’t leave your side.” Alec turned and led the three out the door and down the stairs.

On the third floor landing, they heard the muffled complaint of an older woman, muttering in Cantonese. Sherlock pulled Molly back up the stairs as Alec stepped behind a heavy drape. As she passed him, he reached out and grabbed her. She dropped the tray of dishes and food, the crashed loudly on the stairs. He spun the woman around to face him. Her eyes widened and she started yelling into his hand. She fought in Alec’s grip, kicking out and scratching, until Molly crashed a large glass vase over the woman’s head. Shan slid to the floor out of Alec’s grasp.

“I never want to eat rice again in my life.” She whispered harshly at the unconscious woman. Alec smiled. They turned and went further down the landing when a man’s voice called up from the base of the stairs.

“Shan, what was that noise? Everything alright?”

The three stopped. The man called out again, then they heard him climbing the stairs cursing at the older woman. Sherlock reached for a door knob and opened it, he pushed Molly in and Alec followed them. Alec stood behind the cracked door watching as the man stepped past them. Suddenly he rushed out of the room and shoved his knife quickly into the side the man’s throat just below his ear. Alec pushed the blade forward as he pushed the man down on to the floor. Blood quickly gushed out and soaked into the rug. The dead man never had a chance to make a sound.

Alec jumped to his feet and reached for Molly, wrapping his arm around her waist. They headed down the second flight of stairs only to see another man start to run up. Alec leaped over the railing and landed on the man on the lower flight. Together the two rolled down the stairs wrestling. When they hit the landing, Alec rolled on top of the assailant and drove the blade of his knife under the man’s chin and into back of skull. He gurgled and looked up surprised at the Russian glaring down at him. Alec stood, pulling the knife from the man’s head and wiping the blade on his waistcoat.

Sherlock and Molly were on his heels as they reached the front door. A shout from behind them came with the sound of a pistol being fired. The round hit the wooden frame around the door by Alec’s head. Splinters cutting into his skin of his shoulder. He quickly spun and without a second thought threw the blade. It landed with a solid thud in the man’s chest. He crumbled to the floor, as Alec tore open the front door and pulled Molly out of the house and into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome.


	27. Taking Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only way I can think to say thank you for the wonderful comments is to give you an extra chapter today. Enjoy.

Taking Possession

Sitting in the drawing room in the Royal Citadel, Molly told Holmes, James and Alec what Moriarty had done to her and said. Quincy jumped up and poured her a sherry, while Alec stood behind her chair, resting his hand on her shoulder, anger burning brightly in his green eyes. Q offered the crystal cordial to the woman while everyone else stayed back from the protective Russian.

“Well that explains Molly connection to bringing about the destruction of England.” James said, nodding to his friend.

“It’s not logical.” Sherlock said, as he sat back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

“Do mad men need to be logical, little brother?” Mycroft quibbled.

“Moriarty is the most logical and diabolical man I know, besides you. I missing something.”

“Boys enough, can’t you tell the young woman has been through enough distress tonight than to listen to you to snap back and forth.” Lady Em rang a small silver bell sitting next to her on the table.

Mycroft stood and walked to the fire place and looked down at the burning logs. “Colonel Moran has a three day head start. We couldn’t possible get a message to Elba before he arrives. But if we send the Vauxhall in the morning, she could be there to give chase and maybe recapture Napoleon.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Molly said softly, looking down at her hands. Everyone’s gazes returned to the small woman.

“Why Molly?” James asked.

“My father, Wallace Hooper, he wouldn’t release his prisoner just because of a letter. He is British Army through and through. He wouldn’t think twice of sacrificing his troops for his objective, let alone his daughter. I have been a burden to him since my mother died. That is why he sent me to my cousins in Montego Bay instead of letting me stay with him.”

“And his objectives would be, Miss. Hooper?” Mycroft asked.

“To maintain his position in His Majesty’s Army if not improve it. He would rather see me dead than allow any question of disobeying orders be mentioned. Moriarty’s great plan has failed before it even began.” Molly bent her head down and covered her mouth as she started to cry softly. “It was all for nothing.”

“The bastard. What kind of parent would hurt their child to maintain their position?” Alec said and he knelt down to wrap his arms around Molly. “You are never to see the man again, you hear me.” She looked up into Alec’s face but did no more than wrap her arms around his neck. James’ eyes met and held Lady Em’s; neither smiled.

There was a knock on the door. “Come,” Lady Em said clearly. An orderly stepped in the room. “Miss. Hooper has had a trying day. Escorted to her room please.” Alec helped Molly stand and the two followed the soldier out. The door closed quietly.

“So you believe Moriarty is still planning something, Sherlock?” Lady Em asked.

“I am sure of it. England is not safe yet, regardless if Moran fails in his mission.”

“Then what do you believe we should do?”

“I need to return to London and speak to my contacts there.” Sherlock stood and started to the door, then paused. “But that won’t be possible will it?”

“What do you mean?” Mycroft asked, sitting down on the opposite side of the table from his mother.

“The incident on the Arma de Oro. Captain Sacarmanga.”

“Yes, I read the account in Captain Mallory’s log. The Spanish captain committed suicide, is that correct?”

James, Q and Sherlock looked back and forth between each other.

“Suicide?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, he very clearly had a death wish.” James said, “I believe the discharge of the gun that was stolen from Mallory would be classified as suicide.” Mycroft and James shared of conspirators’ smile. Sherlock nodded his head.

“Then in the morning we return to London?”

“Yes, brother of mine.” Mycroft rose from his seat and offered his hand to his mother. “Oh Sherlock, where is your doctor friend. John Watson. Isn’t he always involved in these little adventures of yours?”

Sherlock’s expression darkened. “John has chosen matrimony over friendship. He returned to London on the early coach this morning. I will be working alone.”

“No Sherlock, James and I will be there.” Q said smiling at his brother, as he and James stood to wish Lady Em a good night.

*****

Molly had just slipped the nightgown over her head, when she heard the soft knock on her door. Molly stepped near the door and whispered reaching for a wool shawl.

“Who is it?”

“Molly, it’s me, Alec. Let me in.” Molly clutched the shawl around her shoulders tightly and opened the door. Alec slipped quickly into the room and closed the door. He looked at her in the weak light from the oil lamp, her skin taking on the golden hue from the light, her brown hair darker but with the occasional flash of yellow.

Alec’s hand reached for her face. His palm resting gently on her cheek. Molly closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. A simple smile covered her lips. Alec leaned forward and kissed the smile softly, just a brush of lips, a light caress. Pulling back he saw her eyes were still closed, but her tongue darted out to lick over her lips where he had just touched.

“Molly, I have something of yours.”

She opened her eyes to see the glint of the light off the silver design. The peach blossoms and leaves shined brightly. Her hairbrush. Molly gasped as he carefully placed it in her hands.

“Oh Alec, I thought I lost it, I lost it when I lost you.” She looked up into his face. Tears shined in her eyes. “Stay with me tonight.” She closed her eyes and tried to stop shaking. “Stay with me, please.”

“Molly?”

“Yes, tonight. I promised.”

He wrapped he arms around her and pulled her tight to his body. She was shivering as the tears finally fell to his chest.

“I will be very careful. I will take care of you.” She nodded but did not say anything. He pulled her back and leaned down and kissed her. Softly at first, then deepening it, it became possessing, demanding. He bent lower and slipped his arm just above the back of her knees and picked her up. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck as he carried her the short distance to the bed. The hairbrush slipping from her grasp. Laying her down gently, he stepped back and slowly undressed in front of her. Never breaking eye contact with her.

When he was completely naked, she let her gaze travel once up and down the man’s body. It was not the first time she had seen him naked, but this time, her heart started beating faster and her breathe came quickly. Alec laid down, stretched out beside her on the bed, his long body moving over hers.

“You know about the pain?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“It will only be brief and then it will feel very good. I’ll make sure of that.” He said smiling down at her. “If you want me to stop, just say so. I won’t be angry. I won’t force you.”

“Alec please.” It was a whimper, a whisper. His lips moved to hers and he kissed her again. His tongue gently licked at her lower lip, and she opened to his request. He licked his way into her mouth, tasting and stroking her own tongue. Molly moaned and moved closer, her arms pulling him into her. His hand moved slowly down her side till it rested on her hip. He grabbed the fabric of the nightgown and slowly lifted it up, moving it up her body till it pooled under her arms. Molly let go of him as he pulled the garment over her head and dropped it to the floor.

In the weak light of the oil lamp, Alec looked down the pale flesh of Molly’s body. His hands ghosting down following his gaze. Down her side to her hip, then across her abdomen then back up to her round breast. His thumb gently rubbed over her rosy-brown nipple causing Molly to gasp and arch her back into his touch. He leaned down and started kissing her neck, tasting her skin. His fingers gently caressing her body. Down her abdomen then back up her sides to her arms. Gentle sweeping touches that made her skin sensitive to the slightest stimuli.

His hand reached up and dragged through the remains of her hair as he moved to lay his body over hers, careful to not crush her.

“When your hair is long again, you will let me spend hours brushing it for you.” He whispered into her ear before biting just below. Molly moaned and ground her pelvis into his. “You will sit naked on my lap and let me caress your soft skin and kiss your delicious mouth.”

“Alec!” she panted.

“Molly you are so incredible beautiful. Every inch of you. Every part of you.” His lips moved back across her face to her mouth. The next kiss he gave her was forceful and possessive. “I want you, I want you to scream my name and be mine. My prize. My treasure.”

She was trembling, her skin was electrified by his touch and his words made her desperate for his hands to be lower on her body. She want to run her own fingers through her cleft. She had never felt so wanton before.

“Please Alec, I need . . .”

“Not yet little kitten, not until you are really ready.”

He lifted himself, listening to her whimper at the loss of his warmth touching her. Moving down her body, he kissed her neck, then shoulder and paused over her breast. He lapped at the nipple then gently sucked on it. Bringing it to a hard nub. He smiled wickedly as he bit down on it and Molly jerked and groaned under him. He worked her other nipple with same enthusiasm as his finger played with first. Molly twisted and moaned as he licked and bit her. She was calling out to him, begging him. Sweat salting her skin.

Alec slipped between her thighs as he moved lower down her body. He spaded out his palm and gently pressed it down over her abdomen, then he knelt down and let his tongue take its first lick of her folds. Molly tried to sit up, but Alec’s hand kept her still. He turned and bit lightly into her thigh warning her to be still. Then he turned and licked again, his tongue pointing and searching for her clit.

“Alec, oh my God! Alec please you’re driving me crazy.”

“Good.” He said muffled in her groin.

He lapped at her, as his tongue circle and teased at the nub of nerves. His hand had her trapped, she wanted to move away from the stimulus, but then again she wanted to stay and be overwhelmed by it. The rush of blood in her ears roared. She was panting and twisting as he took her apart. Clutching the sheets, she called out to him again. Then wanton desperation took her over. Her undamaged hand flew up and grabbed the man’s hair. Instead of pulling him away, she pushed his face deeper into herself. Alec shoved his tongue into her, tasting her flavors and drinking in her want. She came right in his face. Lifting her body off the bed, regardless of his hold on her. Her muscles so tense and ridged they hurt.

She collapsed back onto the bed, trying to catch her breath. Her body shuddering as post orgasm waves moved through her muscles. Alec looked up at her over her small tuff of curls. Her hand dropped from his hair and fell limply to the sheets.

“Alec I never knew.” She panted.

“Yes and there is more.” He kissed her stomach and he started moving up her body. She laid still till he was completely over her. “Are you sure you want to continue?”

“Yes my love.”

Alec’s heart started beating faster at the declaration. He quickly kissed her before she could take it back, letting her taste herself on his lips. He rested weight on his elbow, letting his hands play through her shorn hair as he nudged his heavy cock near her entrance. He leaned down, kissing her as the head of it slipped past her folds.

Molly enjoying the odd sensation of being pierced when all at once there was a sharp burning pain. Cutting through her senses. She rocked her hips up trying to move away from it, then it started to fade as she felt Alec completely fill her. Her body adjusting to the fullness of the man’s length. Her muscles relaxing and accepting him. The pain was still there but it was in the background of so many other sensations.

Alec pulled back from the kiss and leaned up over her. His eyes were closed and his brow furrowed.

“Alec?” she whispered.

“Are you ready?” he asked not opening his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Please.”

His eyes opened and Molly saw the fire and wild animal there. She realized he was fighting to control himself, to hold back till she was ready for him. Trapped half way between heaven and hell. Alec started rocking his hips. Pulling out and pushing in. Molly tipped her head back and arched her back into his thrusts.

“My love, my pirate.” She moaned as he quickened his pace.

“Oh fuck Molly, could you be any more perfect, any more beautiful?!”

She felt her body start to crave again. The fire in her groin moving up her body and into her soul. This is what she wanted, just this. To be here in his arms. Feeling his body moving over hers. To have his manhood deep inside her. This was hers, and no one was going to take it from her. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around Alec’s waist. Giving him the ability to drive deeper into her. She curved her spine and chased after the explosion again.

“You’re so fucking tight! Say your mine! Say it!”

“No,” she gasped. “You belong to me, pirate! You are mine!”

He bent over and bit hard into her shoulder, feeling her tighten around him. Molly came again, harder than the first time. Her vision whiting out, her ears ringing with the sound of her calling out Alec’s name. She felt the hot spray of his cum filling her and pulsing of his cock as his climax over took him. Slowly, his teeth let go of her shoulder, replaced by gentle kisses to the bruise. His lips moved slowly up her neck to her mouth.

The fingers of her right hand moved up and curled into his hair. He carefully pulled out of her and moved to lay next to her, feeling her stroke through his hair. Feeling something he never felt before.

“Molly, my kitten, my pirate queen, I am yours.” He whispered as he smiled against her lips. He was owned. Molly had taken possession of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Molly is not the shrinking flower, we all thought she was. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The group moves to London where John is in for a surprise. Thank you for your comments and encouragements.


	28. Broken Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my core of great readers. Thank you for your comments and support. I'm now moving Sherlock and John's story along. Enjoy.

Broken Hearts

John Watson woke up looking around the room. His head hurt and his tongue was felt swollen in his dry mouth. _‘Why the hell do I do this to myself’_ he thought. He remembered the pub and the bottle and night. Well at least part of the night. Then he remembered why he decided to try and drink himself to death the night before. Mary. His Mary. She had left him.

The day before he had come home from being away for over six months. He was so excited, running up the front stairs of her employer’s home. Mary was the nanny for a banker in the city. John knew that it was inappropriate to visit her during the day and that he should wait till she would be able to visit properly after work, but he couldn’t wait to see his intended. Especially after all that had been said between him and Sherlock. John needed to reassure himself he was right in leaving Sherlock behind.

Upon seeing John at the door, the house keeper was excited to see him return and agreed to take Mary’s young ward to the kitchen for milk. Mary waited till they were alone to let John kiss her and hold her closely. She led the man into the day room and closed the door. John slipped his hands around her waist again and pulled her close.

“I want to get married as soon as possible,” John said as he nuzzled into her neck.

“John, what happened?” Mary asked laughing softly returning his kisses. They had agreed to wait till the following spring, several months away.

“I just missed you so much. Please Mary, let’s get married next week if not sooner.”

“But John, our plans.”

“I don’t believe my family will come and you have none.” Mary pulled back from him crest fallen. “I’m sorry my love, please I just want to be married to you now.”

“John what happened while you were away? Something important for you to act this way.” Mary said moving away from the man and sitting down at a small table. Her smile was replaced by worry.

“It’s Sherlock.” John said weakly.

“Sherlock, but he’s been dead for over two years, how could he affect you this way?” She said.

“He’s not dead, Mary.” John’s voice cracked as he said it.

“Not dead,” she whispered. “What do you mean not dead?”

“He faked his death. He’s been travelling all over the world fighting Moriarty and his minions. He left me behind. Left me to morn and not tell me.” She paled even more than her fine complexion. Shaking her head she remained silent, letting John continue. “Mary, the man I fought for and cried for, just left me behind. Without a thought. Then, when I find out he is alive, he wants me to give everything up and chase after him again. I can’t do it, I just can’t.”

“John I don’t understand. How is he not dead? When did you see him? Where?!”

“He was in the Caribbean with his brother.”

“Quincy, the one that ran away?”

“Yes,” John stopped and looked confused. “I mentioned Quincy? Did I say that he ran away? Never mind, Sherlock was with him on the pirate ship. He told me he faked his death to trick Moriarty.”

Mary stood and paced around the room wringing her hands. “John, where is Sherlock now?”

“He ran away from the ship in Plymouth, but what does that matter? I want to married to you, now. I don’t want to be dragged off away from you again. Not by him or his family. Marry me now, please my love.”

She would not look at him. Instead she stood at the window and looked out onto the street. John stood silently watching her. The winter morning sun making her straw colored hair pale to white. Her finger tips smoothing the edges of the drapes.

“Why did he come back?” her voice soft.

“He’s still chasing Moriarty. There was a woman, Molly Hooper. Moriarty had her kidnapped and Sherlock’s hunting her down.”

“You came here instead of help him to find this Molly Hooper.” Mary said turning away from the window but still not looking at John.

“Mary?”

“How could you let this poor helpless woman be harmed by Moriarty? You should have stayed with Holmes and saved her. You’re not the man I thought you were.” He could hear the sadness in her voice.

“I . . . it’s not what you think.”

“What I think John is that you need to leave. Please, leave now and don’t return.” She moved to the door, but John leaped to his feet and blocked her.

“Mary, no you don’t mean that! Please Mary let me explain!” John pleaded with her.

“No, John leave, I don’t want to see you again.” She pulled her engagement ring from her finger and pushed it into his hand. “Please leave and do not attempt to see me again.”

She moved around him and stepped out of the room, leaving him alone and confused.

*****

John pulled himself out of the bed. He couldn’t let Mary break their engagement. He would have to tell her everything. John washed and shaved and returned to the banker’s front door. Standing in his best suit, he knocked on the wooden door. He waited patiently until the house keeper opened the door. The normally calm woman was haggard. Her black crepe dress was stained with liquid, her hair slipping from its bun. Her eyes red and puffy.

“Mrs. Howard, is Mary here? I would like to speak to her.”

“John, I . . . John what did you say to her?” Mrs. Howard stomped her foot and placed her hands on her hips. Her exhaustion turned to anger upon see John.

“I asked her to marry me.” John said broken.

“Marry you! She fled the house with in an hour of you leaving. No noticed, no warning, didn’t even request a letter of recommendation, though there is no way that Sir would grant her one now. Just left. Didn’t even say good bye to her ward. Just gone!”

“Gone?!”

“Yes, thank you very much. Everything was going fine until you showed up and did whatever you did and now the house is in a turmoil.”

Confusion filled John as he stood at the open door. Where would Mary go? She had no family, hardly any friends that were not John’s friends. No one who would take her in without notifying him. Where?

“Mrs. Howard . . .”

“Leave John and don’t come back.” The door slammed.

*****

John had sworn to himself he would never come to this door again. Two years ago he spit in the street outside this house in Mayfair and cursed. But here he was, Lord Mycroft Holmes house. He straightened his shoulders and lifted the brass door knocker. A formally dressed footman wearing livery and a powdered wig answered the door, he recognized the name immediately and bowed, letting John into the marble foyer.

John stood gritting his teeth, his fists opening and closing as he requested to speak to Lord Holmes. He did not expect to see Sherlock walking down the stairs watching him. The tall dark haired man moved slowly staring down at his one time friend. He wasn’t sure what they were now. Friend or foe. Sherlock would not lie to himself, his heart beat faster when he saw the man. After John’s declaration of love Sherlock had hoped everything he had wanted was coming true. Then just as quickly John dashed all of Sherlock’s hope. _‘I love you and I’m afraid of you.’_ He wanted Sherlock but couldn’t give himself to Sherlock.

Holmes felt the back of his throat burn as he stepped up to John. The two men stood silently looking at each other till John nodded and spoke.

“I see your brother was able to protect you from the Navy.”              

“It was Captain Mallory who protected me. Mallory and Bond.” John lifted an eyebrow. “I was told you came here to see my brother. Why?”

“To ask him to help me find you.” Sherlock’s pulse quickened.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I need your expertise. I need you find someone.”

Sherlock turned away from John so the man could not see how crushed Sherlock was. “I’m sorry John, I am too busy to help you.” He walked away and into the morning room. The coffee service was still on the sideboard and the morning papers were spread across the table. A cheery fire burned in the grates and room was warm. It did not match Sherlock’s mood.

“Sherlock, if you do this for me I will help you find Miss. Hooper.” John said following Sherlock into the room.

“Unnecessary. Mr. Trevelyan and I rescued her a day ago in Plymouth. She has joined us here in London.”

“Well if you have Molly back then you can help me find Mary.” John sounded excited.

Mary! Mary! How much Sherlock hated that name and the woman without even meeting her. Of course John would come here wanting to rub his future with her in Sherlock’s face. A future the detective had wanted and now would never have.

“Help you find Mary? You’ve already misplaced her? Very imprudent of you, John.”

“Sherlock please. Mary and I had a fight and she left. Not just me, but her employment and her friends, everyone. I’ve check with everyone who we both know. No one has seen her. Please I’m sick with worry. Please help me.”

“Why?” Sherlock said spinning quickly on John. “Why should you ask for my help in finding the woman when you state you are afraid of me? Scared of me.”

John swallowed hard and stared at Sherlock.

“Because I love you and I need you Sherlock.” He said softly.

“You love me, but she is the love of your life.”

“No you . . . never mind.” John bowed his head and spoke to the floor. “Sherlock please, I’ve already loss so much. I lost my military career, and my medical one. No one wants a doctor with a tremor. I lost my honor and dignity in coming here today to ask for help. I lost you. If I lose Mary, I will have nothing left. Please Sherlock help me.” Sherlock could see the man crumbling in front of him. He turned away from John and paced around the room, moving from window to table, to fireplace but never staying long enough to register the elements of the place.

“You said your tremor is back. When did that happen?” Sherlock asked without looking at John. He couldn’t look at John anymore without collapsing to his knees to beg forgiveness for all he done to the man.

“Shortly after you jumped off the bridge.” John mumbled.

Sherlock shocked by the sound of John’s voice looked up at him. John was defeated. The strong vibrant man he knew was gone. The man he had kissed and touched on the Skyfall was not there. His John, his beautiful brave John was missing.

“John, tell me about Mary. Her friends, family, employers. Everything.”

John looked up quickly. His vision swam in unshed tears.

“There’s not much to tell, she is an orphan, no family to speak of. Raised in a convent in Ireland, though she doesn’t have much of an accent. Her friends are my friends. None of them have seen her. The only employer I know of is the banker whom she worked for. They have not seen her since our argument.”

“What was the argument about?”

“You. She was angry I didn’t stay with you and find Molly.”

Sherlock tilted his head slightly, refocusing on John. “She felt you should have stayed and helped me?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t tell her we had kissed.”

John actually blushed and dropped his gaze. “I haven’t told anyone.”

Just then the two men heard laughter coming from the hallway. Molly and Alec appeared at the door way. She had a bright smile across her face and her hair cut even shorter. Very masculine in styling, parted on the side and swept back over her forehead. Alec’s hand was placed and the small of her back and eyes burned brightly looking at her.

“John!” she exclaimed when she saw the doctor. She rushed into the room and hugged the man. Stepping back, John noticed the bandaged hand and angry countenance on Alec’s face.

“Molly, Sherlock said you were safe. I just didn’t know you were here.”

“Yes, we’re all here. Quincy, James, Alec and Sherlock. We’re here to help Sherlock.” She said moving back to Alec’s side.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Sherlock shouted waving his hand dismissively at the trio. “John’s here to ask for help too.”

“John?” Molly asked.

“My Mary is missing?” He pulled his watch from his pocket and opened the case. Passing it over to Molly and Alec to look at. “I ask her to move the wedding up and then she just disappeared.”

“Oh, John, you poor man. I’m so sorry.” Molly looked down at the miniature picture of John’s fiancée then gasped. “That’s Amanda!”

“Yes, that’s her name, Mary Amanda Morstan, how did you know?”

“That’s the woman that was helping Moriarty. The Amanda who tortured me.” Molly whispered. She turned and buried her face into Alec’s chest, the man wrapping his arms protectively around her.

John turned to Sherlock and looked in dismay. “No Sherlock, she wouldn’t harm a fly.”

“You said she ran away after you told her you left me in Plymouth. Was she surprised to find out I was alive?”

“Well of course, but Sherlock, she can’t be working for Moriarty. Why?”

“To use you to find me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do so enjoy twists. But unfortunately things will get worse before they get better. Comments loved.


	29. Acceptance and Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rushed through proof reading, please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes.

Acceptance and Denial

John and Sherlock waited in the morning room just staring at the fire in the grate. Molly and Alec had rushed off to request tea for John. The British tradition that tea heals all wounds, but Alec felt a stiff drink was more appropriate when you’ve learned the woman you’ve been engaged to was using you to track down your friend.

John just sat and said nothing after Sherlock’s pronouncement that Mary Amanda Morstan’s objective was himself. Sherlock moved around the room again from place to place trying to find something to hold his attention so he wouldn’t have to think about John. Finally his eyes fell on the brandy decanter and Sherlock quickly poured both of them a drink. He brought the cut glass snifter to John and held it out to the man.

John’s eyes flickered from the fire to the brandy he was being offered. Then his eyes traveled up the long thin lines of Sherlock’s frame to the man’s face. John’s eyes blinked twice gazing up into Sherlock’s silver blue eyes. Sherlock tilted his head and smiled.

Suddenly John’s eyes darkened and his face reddened. Anger took hold of him with a murderous intent. He swatted the snifter out of Sherlock’s hand, the glass crashing into the fire grate, and lunged up out of his seat. Slamming into Sherlock’s unsuspecting body and bring the taller man to the floor with him. The two men wrestled across the floor of the morning room, crashing into furniture and over turning the tables. China broke and decorative fell to the floor in the wake of their fight.

“JOHN WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“TRYING TO KILL YOU, DAMN IT!”

The smaller man said as he swung his fist up and hit Sherlock squarely in the face. Sherlock was thrown back away from the doctor. Then John leaped across the room and tackled him to the floor again. Exchanging blows and smearing blood across each other’s face. Their wrestling knocked over the settee with a loud crash.

“BOYS THAT WILL QUITE ENOUGH OF THAT!” The sharp stern voice of Lady Em carried across the destruction of her house. Both men sat up and looked at the small woman as she stood in the open doorway staring down at them with blazing blue eyes. “THIS IS NOT HOW DISCUSSIONS ARE CARRIED ON IN THE HOUSE. IF YOU CHOOSE TO ACT LIKE THIS IS A PUB, YOU MAY GO ELSE WHERE IMEADIATELY.”

“Yes ma'm.” John said in a clear voice. Sherlock’s was more a muttered ‘Yes mother,’ than the clear military diction of John. Still sitting on the floor, they watched as she stormed off down the hall, leaving them in the wreckage of the morning room.

Both sat still looking around at the broken furniture and shattered china for a moment. Then they started to giggle. Laughing so hard that tears began to fall. Then they both suddenly stopped and stared at each other. The emotional wave washed over them and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John.

“I am so sorry John, I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.” Sherlock pulled back to look into John’s face. His lip cut and his eye blacken.

“Sherlock it wasn’t you, it was Moriarty, although I don’t understand why I’m now his favorite target. I mean truthfully, do you two sit around planning ways to torment me. I pushed you away swearing at you that I could trust her, and she is just like you. A sociopath. Do you think God has it out for me?”

“Anything John, I promise I’ll do anything for you to forgive me. Just let me show you how much I care for you.”

“There’s nothing left Sherlock. It’s all gone. Everything is gone.” John’s hand reached up and gently pushed Sherlock’s curls back over his brow to show a cut in his eyebrow. A small drop of blood gliding down the side of his face.

“I’m still here John, I will always be here for you.”

“No you won’t.” John pulled himself to his feet and brushed the dirt and broken glass from his clothes. He looked down at Sherlock who was still sitting on the floor. Sherlock’s eyes were red and his features taught. John held out his hand and help the other man off the floor. “Good bye Sherlock.”

“John stay. I need you. Please stay.”

“No Sherlock. Even in the end you won. You took Mary away from me too. My dignity, my happiness, my future, my love. You took it all. There is nothing left.” John turned and walked to the door.

“John, there is still us.”

John stopped for a moment, then left without saying another word.

*****

Lady Em stormed down the hall of her home, like a Man of War under full sail. Her features set, her eyes blazing. She wondered where she had gone wrong that all three of her sons, regardless of their intelligence, were still making ridiculous decisions.

She saw the servant bring the tea service for Sherlock. “Bring that in here. My son can wait.” She stepped into the conservatory. She stepped around the potted palms to see James sitting at the wrought iron table staring out over the cold November ground. “Bond, what are you doing here?”

The man looked up seeing the woman glaring down at him.

“I was thinking. Is there a prohibition on doing so in certain rooms of this house?”

“It appears so.” She said as she sat down across the table from him. The servant set the service down and poured the woman a cup of tea. “Or at least my sons believe so. Join me. I want to talk to you.”

Bond’s muscles twitched in his face. He was certain it was not going to be a congenial conversation.

“Mum, what could we talk about?”

Her eyes flashed up from her cup and stared at him. A smirk lifting the corners of her mouth.

“You obviously do not like me.” He let a quick smile pass over his face. “Well, I’m not terrible fond of you, but my youngest is devoted to you. Why?”

“I thought it would be quite apparent. We care deeply for each other.”

“I cared deeply for Quincy’s father and was rewarded with a philandering husband.” She set her cup down and poured one for him.

“I did say we both care deeply. Maybe he did not share in the sentiment.” He sipped his tea.

“Sentiment is not appreciated in this house hold. But you and Quincy are adamant about showing it.”

“Yes, Q and I have devoted our lives to each other.” She set her cup and saucer down, leaning back in her chair studying the man before her.

“Did you teach him how to be devoted?”

James smiled at her, “No, your son is a very passionate man. He was devoted to me before I realized my complete commitment to him.”

“Is that why after all that time. Five years wasn’t it, you still came back to him. What if he had moved on? What would you have done if he was married with children?”

“I would have loved him and let him go.” He drank the last of his tea and set it down on the table. “But Q wasn’t married, in spite of Mycroft’s attempts to make it otherwise.”

“Mycroft was following the ludicrous examples of fore fathers.” Lady Em folded her arms eyes looking away in disgust.

“Where he should have been following the example of his fore mothers?” James teasing smile returned.

Lady Em’s attention returned to James. A bright twinkle flashed in her eyes. “It has been difficult to play the game while wearing a skirt. No one want to take you serious if you don’t have a set of balls.”

James quickly coughed to cover a laugh. “No, mum.”

“The good thing about not having them is that I don’t have to think with them.”

The two shared a knowing smile.

“Tell me Bond, why do you call Quincy, Q?”

James twisted in his chair so he could look straight at the woman. His features soften and his hands rested on the table.

“Alec had kidnapped your brother-in-law and son to help save my life. I had been shot and our surgeon was dead. After Desmond removed the bullet, Quincy sat up with me during the night. I had a fever and was delirious, imagining things. I thought your son was a sprite. A whimsical creature sent to tempt me. In the morning when I woke, he was sleeping in the chair beside my bunk. I was still suffering from the effects of the fever when I asked him his name. He said Quincy. I didn’t understand, and he started to spell it. I said he was a sprite named Q. Ever since he has been my little sprite, my whimsical creature. My love.”

She smiled at the story. She looked younger, her features softened.

“Sherriford had a pet name for me too. It was a farm animal.” She said reminiscing. Her gaze traveling out over the lawn.

“Canine or equine?” James teased. Her eyes flashed back at him. Anger burning brightly, then fading recognizing the joust.

“I was his little Guiney hen.” She said softly almost a whisper. Both laughed quietly. Then she cocked her head to the side and looked again out the window panes. “Will emotional love be enough you think for Quincy? I mean he is still very young. He will have physical needs and from what I have read in regards to you recently captivity, will you be able to keep him happy?”

James stiffened at the question.

“Q’s happiness is my primary concern.” She studied him. His shoulder’s square, his eyes clear and bright.

“Maybe if mine had been my family instead of England, we wouldn’t be in the mess we find ourselves in.”

“Or we could be in an even bigger mess.” He said right back at her. Her eyebrow raised and her smile returned.

“Thank you Bond, thank you for being honest with me. So many men are scared of me, which has played well on many occasions, but right now I need honesty. You have taken good care of my Quincy and I know you will continue.” She stood and moved towards the door. “Maybe I should insist we have more pirates in Parliament. It would be good for the county I believe. My best to you and Q.”

She turned and left the man sitting in the room. The sound of her rustling skirts drowning out his thoughts.

*****

Q found James in their rooms late in the afternoon. The blonde stood looking out the window and across the park land towards the city. It was late in the day and the gray November skies was pulling the light from every room.

Q had spent the day with Sherlock after the man had been fighting with his best friend. Sherlock would not tell Q why John had attack just that he had.

“James, what do you think happened?” Q asked as he walked up behind the older man, wrapping his arms around James’ waist.

“I couldn’t guess. They both are hurting. I thought they were growing closer, but now I don’t know.” James turned in Q embraced and cupped the young man’s face. “You do know I love you?”

Q smiled, “Of course.”

“Your happiness is everything to me.” Q nodded letting his eyes betray his confusion.

“James?”

The older man leaned in and kissed Q’s lips.

“I miss us. I miss being intimate with you.”

Q pulled back and let his hands drop from James’ waist.

“The doctor said as long as it hurt for you to urinate, you shouldn’t try anything else.”

“I believe the doctor was wrong.”

“James, no. I won’t let you hurt yourself worse.”

James smiled and reached to pull the younger man back to him. “Q there is another way to be intimate with you. I want you. I want to feel you. Your touch, your skin, your cock.” He leaned forward and kissed Q again. “Make love to me Q. Take me.”

Q’s eyes widened. “James, I . . . we so rarely do it the other way around.”

“You enjoyed it when we have, haven’t you?”

“Yes but, won’t it cause you to . . . get excited?”

“Just being near you gets me excited my sprite. Make love to me.”

James pulled Q to the bed, kissing him and running his hands up and down the man’s body. He grabbed at Q’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. Pulling the tied sleeves hard to free his hands. Q moaned as James moved down the man’s neck, kissing and nipping at the flesh exposed to him. James’ hands moving quickly to Q’s breeches. He pulled the man’s breeches and pants down to his thighs. Q’s length already hard and leaking from James’ touches.

James placed his palm across Q’s chest and gently pushed, making the young man fall to the bed behind him with a gasp. James knelt between Q’s legs and pulled his boots off, then his clothes, leaving Q naked in front of him.

Slowly James dragged his hands up Q’s legs, up his calves and across the tops of his thighs. Bending down and placing kisses behind the caresses, making Q moan and twist on the bed. James leaned forward and licked across the younger man’s bollocks, the skin twitch and reacting to the moist heat of James’ breath.

“Oh God, James please.” Q moaned.

James let one of Q testicle slip into his mouth, gently sucking on it. Running his tongue over and over it. Using his hands to hold Q’s legs still. Then he moved on the other testicle, lightly biting at the sac. Bring a sharp quick scream from the boy. James smiled as the bollock slipped from his mouth and he licked Q’s cock from the base to the tip. Letting his tongue swirl around the head. Tasting the precum for the first time in weeks. Hungrily, he dove down on the length, taking it all in. Swallowing around the tip, causing Q to shove his hips up to drive his cock deeper.

“James, oh fuck.”

James smiled around Q’s cock and slowly let it slip out of his mouth. Q was panting and sweat was dampening his curls. James stood and slowly undressed in front of the debauched young man.

“You will prepare me slowly. Get me ready to take your cock, won’t you?” His voice deep and demanding.

“Yes James,” Q panted.

“I want to feel your fingers deep in me, at least three, before you plunge that hard cock into me.”

Q nodded trying to get himself under control. James stepped away, and opened the drawer of the desk. Pulling out a small bottle, brass and ornate.

“Oil,” James whispered. He passed the bottle to Q, then knelt down on the bed. He leaned forward, resting his face on the forearms as he knelt down on his heels. His body open and exposed to Q, completely vulnerable to the young man. Completely trusting the man’s intentions.

Q looked down on his lover. The trust and faith, James had in the young man brightly shining in James’ blue eyes. Q swallowed hard the lump in his throat. His eyes tearing slightly at the man’s submission. His belief. His love.

Q moved carefully, slowly. Opening James with gentle slides of his fingers. Kisses littering down the older man’s back. Both men were glistening with sweat and need by the time Q was rocking three fingers in and out James’ hole.

“Okay, Q now would be very good.” James whispered into his arms.

“James, oh God. You are so gorgeous. Please.”

“Anything Q anything.”

Q knelt behind the man and dropped his hands to the James’ hips. He gently pulled and shifted James up onto his hands and knees. Q slowly guided his member to James’ hole and pushed forward. The popping sensation as he breached the older man for the first time in over a year.

“OH FUCK JAMES!” he called out feeling the heat and tightness of his lover.

He rocked slowly in the man’s channel, trying desperately to maintain his control. Q leaned his body over James’, draping himself on the bigger man. James pushed back and stood up on his knees. His back pulled into Q’s chest as the younger man wrapped his arms under James’ arms and over his shoulders. Q pulled James back and down with each upward thrust Q took. James leaned his head back on his lover’s shoulder feeling the hard thrust of the young man.

“Q harder, harder.” He panted and his hands wrapped around his own throat.

He felt a burning start low in body, a familiar need, want. Near his spine. His hand slipped from his throat and moved slowly down his body. Brushing lightly over his chest and abdomen, till it reach the nest of soft curls at his groin. His fingers passed over his cock. His hard cock. He took it in hand and slowly started pumping it. A sharp pain raced through his shaft then it faded as his length got harder and started leaking.

“Yes Q, fuck me harder, drill my arse.”

Q’s movements became violent and fast. James sped up his strokes to match Q’s pumping into him. James could feel his blood start to burn and his mind swim with the approaching abyss. He was on the edge, he could feel it right there just barely out of reach.

“Make me yours! Fuck me blind!” James shouted. Q bit down hard on James’ shoulder as the older man felt the hot cum fill him. Burning. Q’s pulsing cock over James prostate. James screamed out Q’s name as he came. His cum shooting out across the bed covers before covering his hand.

“Q!” James collapsed forward, Q being pulled down with him. Q slowly pulled himself out of the man and rolled to the side. James lifted up and looked down into his lover’s face. His face flushed, his lips dark ruby. Tears were streaking down the sides of Q face and running into his dark curls.

“James? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” James whispered slowly kissing the man’s tears.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. We’re going to be okay Q. We’re going to be fine.”


	30. Plans Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter just to move the plot along.

Plans Made

John head was swimming as he slowly woke up. He was face down on a wooden table breathing the smell of stale ale, sweat and vomit. He wasn’t too sure the last two weren’t his. His mouth was dry and his clothes itched. Bruises covered his face and body, John wondered how many fist fights he had gotten into during the night. He just wanted to slip back into oblivion and forget. The solid kick to the sole of his boot pulled him further from his destination.

“Wakie, wakie, time to get up Watson.”

“Bugger off.” John’s voice was thick and hard to understand. His lips didn’t want to form words. He tried licking them only to find his tongue was dry as parchment.

“No your presence is requested elsewhere.” A hand reached down and pushed his shoulder.

“I said bugger the fuck off. I’m not moving.” He tried to open his eyes, but his vision wouldn’t focus. He closed one eye and twisted his head trying to see the man standing over him. Army dress, tan breeches, red blouse with gold braid, black collar. “What the fuck does the army want with me now?” John’s words slurred out of his mouth.

“Not the army, the British government.” He felt the man reach under both of John’s arms and lift him off the bench. “Up you go. Can you walk?”

“Why the fuck should I walk?”

“Because it would be better for you to walk out of here rather than be dragged by my men.” The soldier said behind John’s head. John set his feet on the ground and tried to lift himself up, putting his weight on his shaking legs. He crumpled at first, being caught by the man.

“Give me a hand you fucking wanker. Don’t make me do all the bloody work.” John weaved in the man’s grasp. He turned to narrow his eyes, squinting trying to see the man talking to him. “Who the fuck are you anyway?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Greg Lestrade. House Guard.” John tried to stand straight and salute, only to tip over and be caught again in the man’s arms. “Coffee first, then a bath. Someone wants to talk to you Captain Watson.” John snored softly, collapsed in the officer’s arms.

*****

John sat in the elegant office gritting his teeth. The lieutenant colonel who had brought him to Whitehall, sat in the other chair watching John out of the corner of his eye. He had dragged John from the seedy tavern by the docks to the Horse Guard barracks. Lestrade felt the Horse Guard would be less offended by the smell of shite than the House Guard. The bath was no more than a dunk in the ice cold horse trough fully dressed. Watson came up out of the water cursing even louder that he did at the tavern.

Hot coffee and dry clothes were given to the shivering man as Lestrade explained he had been sent to retrieve John Watson from whatever hole the man had chosen to crawl into. Watson’s presence was requested at Whitehall and the office of the one man that he probably hated most in the world. Mycroft Holmes.

The hated man himself walked into the room just as John stood to leave.

“Ah, very good Gregory. Thank you for finding Captain Watson for me.” Mycroft said as he stepped around his desk and sat down. John remained standing glaring at the man in front of him. “Please John do sit. No reason for formalities.”

John just glared.

“Really John, after everything I’ve done for you, are you sincerely going to stand there and act like a scorned woman.”

“Everything you done for me, more like done to me.”

“Well let’s start with saving you from a disastrous marriage.” John spun on his heels and marched out the door. Pulling them open he found two guards blocking his exit. “Remember, Captain Watson, you are still commissioned in his Majesty’s army. If you try to desert you will be arrested and imprisoned.”

John slammed the doors shut and glared at the man behind the desk. Returning to his seat, John set his jaw.

“You and your bloody family have ruined my life.” John spit out. “What now do you want, my blood?”

“Let’s not be dramatic.” Mycroft shifted the papers on his desk. “It is my brother’s safety I am now concern with.”

“Sherlock’s?! He is more than capable of taking care of himself.”

The lieutenant colonel shifted in his seat at the mention of the name.

“SHERLOCK?! IS HE ALIVE?!”

Mycroft looked sheepishly at the man, “Well yes. He is here in London, staying at my home.”

“When did he come back? How long have you known?”

John twisted in his chair facing the soldier but kept his eyes fixed on Mycroft. “He’s known Sherlock’s been alive for at least three months.”

“THREE MONTHS?! WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME, MYCROFT?!”

The man cleared his throat and moved more objects about his desk. “I didn’t have any assured conformation to Sherlock’s resurrection. But had reason to believe he was alive and returning to England. His reappearance was not pertain to any of our discussions Gregory.”

The officer huffed and clinched his fist.

“John, Sherlock needs you to assist him in this present dilemma.”

“No.” John answered quickly.

“John, without you to be there and keep him in check, I fear he will do himself harm. He will not hold himself back and run head long into cannon fire. I know you will deny it, but you would be devastated if something happened to him.”

“I thought something had happened to him two years ago. I thought he was dead and I was devastated. Remember when I had my hands around your neck squeezing the breath out of you. Your mother and brother pleading for your life as you blacked out.”

Lestrade rose from the chair and turned his anger on John. “That was you. You’re the one that throttled Mycroft.” The punch was hard and fast, knocking John clear out of the chair and across the room.

“GREGORY THAT IS ENOUGH! IT IS NOT HELPING AND JOHN HAD A VERY GOOD REASON!” Mycroft sat back down and breathing deeply tried to regain control of the room. John slowly picked himself up off the floor, Lestrade stepping forward and offering his hand to the man. “Now gentlemen back to my brother, Sherlock is running out of control after yesterday’s altercation with you John. He is not able to think clearly and we need him at his best right now. England needs him.” Mycroft leaned back into his chair, as John sat back down.

“It is obvious that Moriarty is planning something large. This ploy the Napoleon and his jailor is only the tip of the iceberg. We need to determine what his plan is and defeat it. We need my brother at his best, and he cannot be at his best without you.”

“What is the plan?” John asked softly.

“There is no plan as of yet. We do not have enough information to launch a proper defense.”

“How am I to help Sherlock?”

Mycroft leaned forward, his brow relaxing, knowing he had John coming on board. “Sherlock needs you by his side. To keep him on track and moving forward. He needs you to protect him too. As you always did John.” John nodded, his face set and his eyes steady.

“Alright, this one last time. That’s all. After that I want my honorable discharge and to never see anyone of your family again.” Mycroft leaned away from the man. The anger building beneath the surface.

“Whatever you wish John. This one last time to defeat Moriarty.”

The knock on the door was soft, but Lestrade still reacted suddenly to it. “Come” Mycroft called out clearly. The door opened and an immaculately dressed man walked into the office. Lestrade jumped to his feet as Mycroft rose more gracefully.

“Lord Brooks, how wonderful to see you. I wasn’t expecting you till later.”

John stood and turned to look at the new arrival. The man was indeed quite handsome, in black wool flock coat and starched white shirt. His complexion was pale but very health looking and his dark eyes, clear and sharp.

“Lord Richard Brooks may I introduce Captain John Watson and Lieutenant Colonel Gregory Lestrade. Gentlemen, Lord Brooks, leading advisor to the Prince Regent.” Both officers bowed quickly and sharply. “Lord Brooks, you are quite safe to speak openly in front of these men.”

The man smiled at the two officers, then returned his attention to Mycroft. “Lord Holmes, is everything arranged for tonight?”

“Yes sir. All the concerned ministers will be in attendance as well as several members of Parliament. I believe the number will be around twenty in all.”

“Very good, the Prince Regent will be here at the appointed time. I can be assured his safety is guaranteed?”

“Absolutely. Lady Em wishes a moment with the Prince before the meeting, though.”

Lord Brooks bowed his head and shook it slowly. “I’m afraid the schedule won’t allow that. Will she be willing to wait till after the meeting? She can wait outside the room till we conclude our discussions.”

“That will be acceptable to the Lady, thank you. Till tonight sir.”

The dark hair man smiled back, “Yes until tonight. Good day gentlemen.”

He left the room, the doors shutting quietly behind his departure.

“So the meetings going ahead?” Lestrade asked.

“Yes, we need to be ahead of French.” Mycroft said.

“What meeting?” John asked.

“The Prince Regent, the Prime Minister and select members of Parliament and the ministers of war, navy, army and various other officials will meet here tonight to plan a strategy if Napoleon escapes Elba and tries to declare war again.”

“You honestly think the little mad man will get away?”

“One man’s mad man is another man’s hero. You should be painfully aware of that John. And yes eventually, Napoleon will escape given the lax attitude toward his confinement by his jailors.”

John shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “So what am I to do?”

“Wait here. Lady Em and my brothers will be coming here today for the meeting. Then do what you do best John, make Sherlock shine.”

John nodded and stood. This time when he left the room the guards let him pass. He went and stood out in the afternoon sun. It was early November and the wind was turning cold, but the sun felt good on his face.

 _‘Just once more unto the breach dear friends, once more.’_ John thought to himself. This would be it. Then he would never have to see Sherlock Holmes again. He was glad, because he knew more than once and he would never be able to leave the man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Once more unto the breach" Shakespear, Henry V Act 3 Scene 1


	31. Remember, Remember

Remember, Remember

The two carriages left Mayfair and headed east to Whitehall. The city was alive with the annual celebrations. Bonfires burned brightly in the parks of St. James and Hyde. As effigies of Guy Fawkes hung from poles and staffs. Many roads were blocked as fires burned in the middle of streets.

“Everyone seems to be in fine spirits tonight.” Mycroft said, as his mother and Sherlock looked out the windows at the crowds.

“Yes wanton destruction always brings out the festive.” Lady Em said sarcastically. Mycroft’s attention was locked on Sherlock. The younger brother was anxious and his left hand had a definite twitch. Mycroft was afraid his brother was already turning to the coca plant and its properties to alleviate the loss of John Watson. The Lord hoped his plan to save England would also save his brother.

The second carriage had four passengers. James and Q, Alec and Molly. Molly had surprised everyone at the house when she came down the steps dressed as a young man. With her hair cut short now in a very masculine coif, she could easily pull off being a teenage boy. She wore a navy blue velvet coat and tails, cream breeches and a starched white shirt and cravat. She had a bright wide smile when she walked up to the surprised Holmes. Q praised her and Mycroft scoffed. Lady Em nodded and stated she was envious. Alec couldn’t speak. He was overwhelmed.

Now in the carriage as it rolled over the cobblestones and avoided the mobs, Alec let his attention wonder up and down the frame of the young woman next to him. The breeches were tight across her thighs and the curve of her behind was noticeable. Although not an inch of skin was showing, she still excited the Russian. His breeches were feeling tighter. He reached over and grabbed her knee and pulled it up and crossed it over her other knee. Molly turned and looked at him quizzical.

“Now you look like a real dandy sitting that way.” He whispered into her ear. Q and James sitting opposite in the carriage smiled. “You could pass as a rent boy at one of the expensive houses in Soho you know.”

She smiled up at the man and leaned closer to him. He brought his lips to her ear and whispered darkly. His breath a warm kiss to her skin.

“Maybe, after this stupid meeting is over and we can go back to the house, you and I should go to our rooms early. I wonder if you would like to pretend to be a rent boy for me?”

“Better yet, why not a naughty school boy who needs his master to spank and discipline him.” She whispered back. Alec groaned and leaned forward to kiss her.

“James were we ever that ridiculous?” Q asked in a loud conversational tone.

“Yes,” James laughed.

“And twice as loud.” Alec said looking up at them. Molly just blushed and turned away from the three men uncrossing her legs.

As the carriage stopped in front of the white columns of the government building the first echoes of fireworks could be heard.

“That will be going on all night.” Lady Em said. “We won’t be getting any rest tonight.”

“Mother, the masses do enjoy their controlled riots. Please.” Mycroft held out his arm and escorted Lady Em up the steps and into the building. Their footsteps echoed down the marbled halls, as singing and cheering could be heard in the distance. At the end of the hall, two men dressed in the red uniforms of British Army stood. Sherlock took a quick sudden gasp when he recognized the smaller man.

“Captain Watson, very nice to see you again.” Lady Em said as they paused in front of the two men. “Lieutenant Colonel Lestrade. Always a pleasure.” Both officers bowed quickly, then relaxed.

“John,” Sherlock voice was hollow and weak, “may I speak to you in private?” Sherlock led the man to an alcove just off the hall. He turned and looked into John’s face. “You’ve been in a fight again. Last night.”

“Yes, at a tavern down on the docks. Had to release some steam.”

“Is that where you got that black eye?”

John smiled slightly. “No, that was from some complete dick yesterday morning. But I believe I gave as good as I got.”

“You always do John, you always do.” Sherlock smiled back, his voice beginning to get stronger. “John, when this night is over, whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I’ll help you find Mary. I’ll convince her to marry you. Whatever you want, please just . . . I don’t want to lose you, friend. If we can be nothing more, your friendship is still the greatest possession I have.”

“Sherlock, let’s just stop Moriarty, then . . . then just decide later. All right?” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Sherlock he didn’t want to see him again, because he did.

John blinked and pushed his chin forward, calming his emotions. He held his hand out and Sherlock looked down at it. Sherlock rolled his lips under his teeth and blinked away a tear. Slowly he took John’s hand in his and felt the warmth of the man’s skin. John squeezed and shook their hands, as Sherlock looked up quickly into John’s face. Sherlock grabbed the outstretch hand with both of his and held tight to it. Realization lightened John’s expression.

“Yes Sherlock, we will talk. We will work this out.” He said in a whisper. Then the two men parted.

The procession of officials started in the long hallway where the Lady Em and her guests stood. Various members of Parliament and Ministers entered. All recognizing her and bowing respectively. Quincy took his position beside his mother. His hands folded behind his back, his shoulders square and straight. Mycroft stood on the other side of her, his face with normal expression of indifference firmly in place. Behind them stood Alec, Molly and James.

The murmur of whispers increased and the men stopped and parted allowing soldiers to march in. A man of average appearance walked in accompanied by Lord Brooks. The Prince Regent, Prince George. He was of average height with a full round face and a long nose. His brown hair was swept forward and curled neatly by his muttonchops. The Prince and Lord Brooks paused in front of Lady Em. She curtsied as the men around her bowed. Molly started to curtsy when Alec grabbed her elbow and indicated she should bow too.

“Lady Mansfield Holmes, always a pleasure.” The Prince said. “And is this your missing son Quincy Alcott?”

“Yes sir, recently returned to us from Jamaica. And his associates. Captain James Bond, Alec Trevelyan and ah, Master Hooper.” The three bowed again.

“Brooks has informed me that you wish to speak to me after the conference.”

“Yes sir. Briefly.”

“Good I wish to return to the palace as soon as possible to view the fireworks.” He turned and walked into the conference room. Brooks looked over the people standing with Lady Em, his eyes landing solidly on Molly.

She saw those dark eyes and quickly grabbed Alec’s hand. The tall Russian saw the look Brooks was giving Molly and he subtly moved himself in front of her, blocking Brooks view. The dark haired man narrowed his eyes and addressed Lady Em.

“Master Hooper, would I know his family?”

“His father is Colonel Wallace Hooper, his sister is Mary Margaret Hooper. I believe she is in Plymouth right now convalescing.”

“Oh yes. Wallace Hooper. That name is familiar.” Brooks smiled and turned to follow the prince into the room. Mycroft looked cautionary at his mother and also went to the room. Lady Em’s expression was fixed contempt.

As soon as the door were closed on the conference rooms, the guards took their places. Molly wrapped her arms around Alec and started to cry.

“Molly, Molly what is it?!” Alec asked.

“It’s him! It’s him!”

“What?”

“He recognized you Molly, didn’t he?” Lady Em asked.             

“I think so? Oh, Alec it’s Moriarty. Lord Brooks is Moriarty!”

Lady Em grabbed the young woman’s arm and pulled her over to an adjoining hall. Sherlock, and John joined the group.

“Are you sure it’s Moriarty?” Lady Em asked the shaking Molly.

“That man laughed as my fingers were being broken! Of course I am sure! He is a monster!” She nearly shouted. Alec pulled her tight to his chest. His eyes looking directly into James. Their silent conversation was becoming lethal.

“If Lord Brooks is Moriarty, then what is his plan? Why would he be here?” Sherlock asked.

“Bugger why he’s here, let’s go in there and drag him out!” Alec’s growled.

“No you idiot. He is a Lord, and all we have is the word of girl dressed as a dandy right now. We need evidence. Proof to take before the Prince Regent.”

The chants from outside came through the windows and echoed down the marble halls.

_Remember, remember the fifth of November.                                                                                                                      Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot.                                                                                                                                                            I see no reason why gunpowder treason,                                                                                                                                     Should ever be forgot._

Lady Em looked at her two sons. Sherlock stood up straighter and Quincy shook his head.

“He wouldn’t!”

“Yes, Moriarty would.” Sherlock said. “Who recommended the meeting, Lestrade?”

“Lord Brooks. He was concerned about Napoleon’s possible escape from Elba. He wanted a defense plan organized.”

“Moriarty planned on everyone being in that room. It will be a decapitation at best and coup de' tat at worse." 

"A what?” Alec shouted holding Molly tight to himself.

“If he blows up that room and kills everyone in there, he will have literally decapitate the military and leadership of this county. Yes the army and navy would be intact, but the head, those who strategies and give orders would be dead. The main leaders of Parliament and the Prime Minister would be dead, the Prince Regent dead. We would have no one left to make decisions. Leavening England vulnerable to all her enemies. Anyone, France, Spain, even the United States could defeat us.”

“He’s insane.” Bond said reaching for Q.

“But the building was secured. Mycroft checked to make sure it was safe for this meeting.” Lestrade interrupted.

“The building would be safe, but has anyone checked under the building?” Sherlock asked.

Just then the doors opened on the conference. Brooks/Moriarty stepped out and said something to the two soldiers guarding the door. They nodded and he turned. Looking briefly around the hall, he did not see the Holmes standing off in the opposite direction. Believing he was alone, the man quickened his pace and left the building.

“James, we’re not going to let the bastard get away are we?”

“NO.”

Alec kissed Molly and pushed her into Quincy’s grasp. He and James rushed from the building.

“I know where to look, but we first have to get everyone out of that room in case I can’t get there in time.” Sherlock said. “Quincy get mother and Molly back to the safety of the house. Lestrade, I need an officer.”

Quincy grabbed his mother’s and Molly’s wrists and pulled the two women from the hall. His mother demanding he stop. Quincy firmly ignoring her. Lestrade, Sherlock and John approached the two soldiers.

Standing in front of them, Lestrade spoke. “We need to evacuate that room now. I need you to let me enter and speak to Lord Holmes.”

“Sir. Lord Brooks said no one was to enter regardless of reason.”

“I order you.”

“Sir, we cannot.”

“John, this is taking too much time.” Sherlock said flanking Lestrade on one side as John flanked the other. In a split second, Holmes and his doctor attacked the two soldiers. Holmes with quick sudden strikes and John tackling and knocking the man down and unconscious. Sherlock grabbed the pistol from the soldier’s belt as Lestrade opened both doors and swung them open wide. He marched in and up to Mycroft who was speaking but watched as the soldier approached. Lestrade leaned forward and whispered into Mycroft’s ear. The man pulled back and looked across the room at his brother.

The chanting from outside carried into the room.

_Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, ‘twas his intent,                                                                                                                                        To blow up the King and Parliament.                                                                                                                                            Three scores of barrels of powder below,                                                                                                                                       Poor old England to overthrow._

Mycroft stood straight and addressed the room.

“Gentlemen we need to leave immediately. Your Highness, your escort is not available, I humbly request you allow Mr. Lestrade to see to your safety. Gentlemen, now.”

The men murmuring and questioning stood and in a confused and disorganized manner left the room and the building. Sherlock and John were already running down the street and around the corners.

“Sherlock, where are we going?”

“The storm drains, the sewage system. It’s the only place.” Sherlock found a metal grate at the edge of the curb and pulled it up. It was pitch black inside and the depth was undeterminable. Sherlock leaped in before John could stop him. “Come on John, the game is on!”

John pause, looking into the blackness. He swallowed hard and dropped. Hitting the cobblestone floor sooner than he expected. He was only ten feet below the street level but in complete darkness. He could not see his own hand let alone Sherlock.

“Sherlock, bloody hell, where are you?”

“Here.” Finger tips lightly grazed over the back of John’s hand. Instinctively, John twisted his hand and grabbed the hand of the man he could not see in the dark. “How do we know which way to go?”

“Trust me.”

And John knew he could.

The two men hurried through the tunnels of the London sewage system. Sherlock’s hand lightly gliding along the mildew slick brick walls and he held tight to John with his other. The walked together in complete darkness, occasionally stumbling over debris, as John trusted his friend to guide them. After twenty minutes of complete blackness, John saw the faint glow of light coming down the tunnels. Sherlock approached slowly, careful to not make any noise. The light was coming from a room to their right. A small step above the main drainage tube of the system.

Just before they moved into the room. Sherlock stopped John and handed him the pistol. Leaning close he whispered into John’s ear. His breath warm on the man’s skin. “You’re a much better shot. Be prepared.”

They stepped up onto the dry stones and into the room. Several oil lamps hung from the walls lighting the area. Fourteen wooden barrel arranged in a large circle dominated the room. In amongst the barrels was a person dressed in breeches and dirty flock coat. The person was hunched over attaching ropes of cannon fuse to each barrel and then to a weave of more fuses.

“Not the thirty-six barrels of Guy Fawkes but surely able to do the job sufficiently.” Sherlock said in his deep voice. The sound of it bouncing off the brick walls and echoing down the tunnels behind them. The conspirator stood at the sound, as John moved away from Sherlock and further into the room. John’s gun pointed directly at the person.

“Moriarty will be caught by the end of the evening. The Prince Regent has already been moved to a safe location and just like Guy Fawkes, your plot has been discovered and prevented. Move away from the explosives.”

The person spun quickly and held a gun up pointing it at Sherlock. The small round face and bright blue eyes were instantly recognizable under the felt hat that hid the straw colored hair.

“Mary!” John shouted. Her eyes flickered over to him.

“John you’re not supposed to be here. You need to leave now.”

“Mary put the gun down.” John said watching her. His mind racing to understand.

“John please. Please understand, I was forced to deceive you. I didn’t want too. You are a good man and I hated every time I had to lie to you. Please leave.”

“No Mary, you need to put the gun down. It’s over. You won’t escape.” Sherlock said.

“No Mr. Holmes it is you who will not escape.” She pulled the hammer back.

The gunshot was loud in the small room, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. The smoke from the gunpowder acrid and burning. Mary slumped to the floor. John dropped his gun and rushed over to her, cradling her in his arms.

“Oh God Mary, why? Why did you make me do it?” he cried at her.

“I had too. Moriarty forced me to seduce you. And I had to force you to hate me. I had to for him.” Her eyes closed and her frame collapsed as she died. John pulled her close to himself and openly wept. Sherlock stood back and watched his friend morn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For American readers, just in case you didn't know. Guy Fawkes was a catholic who with numerous other men tried to blow Parliament up on November 5, 1605, with 36 barrels of gunpowder. The plot was discovered and stopped. Guy Fawkes was arrested tortured and hung. On November 5 for over four hundred years England has celebrated the failed  
> plot with Guy Fawkes night. It is celebrated with parades, bonfires and fireworks. Effigies of Guy and unpopular politicians are burned. Great fun is had by all. Except those who have to clean up the next day.  
> Okay, I've believe we are almost done. Just two more chapters of story and a very long epilog. Thank you for all your comments and support.


	32. Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a character death in this chapter. Lots of violence and mayhem. Two more chapters to go.

Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

As Moriarty hurried down the stairs of Whitehall, Alec and James were quick on his heels. The mad man climbed into the carriage and the driver went to the whip immediately, the horse’s hooves clattering across the cobbles. Alec started to run after the carriage, as James rushed in the opposite direction. Alec ran head long trying to catch Moriarty but was unable to keep up and quickly was falling behind. Then he heard the staccato of galloping hooves rushing towards him. James had stolen a cab and was closing the distance to Alec.

James hardly slowed the cab for Alec jump into the compartment, then cracking the whip above the horse’s ears. The animal pulling reins through his fingers as he gave the horse its head. The cab raced through the streets. Party goers leaping out of the way of the run away cab and the two crazed men driving it.

Moriarty led them on a chase through London, down the Strand and Fleet Street, avoiding the revelers, then south to the river and Blackfriars. Moriarty’s four wheeled carriage turned suddenly and down to the docks. James tried to rein back the racing carriage horse, but the two wheeled cab was top heavy. As the horse turned down the street, the left wheel raised off the stone pavers. The cab tipped suddenly, throwing both Alec and James into the street. The bearing strap snapped as the traces broke, horse crashed to the street, screaming and thrashing violently. James dropped the reins and slipped his hand into his boot. Pulling out the ten inch knife he carried there and he cut the hame, freeing the horse. The animal running off into the night, as the sky started to light up with fireworks.

Alec rolled up onto his feet and chased after Moriarty carriage just before it stopped in front of a warehouse. He had pulled his blade from its hiding place in the calf of his boot. With James at his side, the two men rushed to the darken warehouse. The door standing open and unguarded. Both men instinctively knew it was a trap. James and Alec moved slowly around the crates and boxes on the pavement in front of the building. Careful to keep themselves hidden from the darken windows. Moving their backs solidly to the wall they inched toward the open door.

“Any idea how many are in there?” Alec asked in a whisper.

“Enough to make it interesting.”

“Oh good, I wouldn’t want to get bored.” He moved quickly rushing to the other side of the door when the shot ran out, ricocheting on the cobble stones in the street. Alec slammed his back to the wall next to the door and smiled over at James.

“I don’t like coming to gun fight with only knives.” Alec whispered. James nodded back. The building was dark and the two of them were back lite by the flashes of fireworks and bonfires. James paused and looked around them. Off to one side he noticed a wooden crate with Chinese characters on it. Ducking down he moved quickly over to the crate and using his knife he pried open the lid.

Fireworks. Chinese fireworks imported for Guy Fawkes Night. A board evil smile covered James’ face. He grabbed two on the long strings of tied fireworks, each with at least fifty small individual bombs. Carefully moving back to the door, James tossed one of the strings to Alec along with a taper. Alec slipped down and moved to the street lamp and lit the taper, then blowing it out, he moved back to James. Blowing gently on the end of the wooden stick, Alec got the taper to glow brightly. He lit his string of fireworks and tossed them into the dark warehouse.

A few seconds later the room lit up with explosions. Flashes of light, bright and white blinded everyone in the room. Alec and James rushed into the room together, moving to right and around the confused men who had wasted gunshots on the fireworks.

“Stop you idiots! Shoot the men, not the fireworks!” Moriarty’s voice carried over the bangs and explosions. None of his men had seen James and Alec enter the building. They were still thought the two were outside on the loading dock.

James took the taper from Alec and moved to the back of the warehouse as Alec remained still, waiting. James moved slowing, crab walking low, careful of where he set his feet so as not to give away his location. One man stepped forward and near door, he paused to gain courage and then quickly poked his head out the door.

“They’re gone!” he shouted back. He stepped back into the building and within two feet of Alec’s hiding place. Alec grabbed the man’s ankles and jerked backwards. The man crashing to the floor with loud grunt. Alec’s knife quickly plunged into the side of the man’s throat and pushed forward through cartledge of the trachea. His last sound was a breath groan as his blood poured rapidly around the body. Alec moved silently away.

“Eddie! What happened? Eddie?” One of the other guards called out. The man took a step forward and neared himself to James’ position. The other men in the ware house stepped forward and one tripped over the dead body of Eddie.

“Oh fuck, he’s dead!” The man shouted kneeling down beside the body.

James stood up and wrapped his hand over the second guard’s mouth and dragged him backwards into the darkness. He grabbed the man’s shoulder across the chest then pulled his hands in opposite directions. The rewarding sound of a snapping neck echoed in the dark warehouse.

“George?” A fourth man called out. Silence. “George?”

“Fuck this!” The kneeling man said. “I’m out of here.”

He stood only to be shot. The man falling on the body of his dead cohort.

“NO ONE IS LEAVING TILL THOSE TWO PIRATES ARE DEAD!” Moriarty shouted. “I’LL SKIN THE NEXT MAN WHO MOVES TO THE DOOR AND MAKE HIM INTO SHOES!”

“Sir, we can’t see them. We can’t find them. How are we going to kill them?”

James had moved around the back of the room to another guard. He stood up quickly and brought his knife to the man’s throat. The guard gasped and straightened his back. Everyone turned to the sound.

“Don’t move,” James whispered into his ear. The pirate moving his free hand forward and pulling the pistol from his prisoner’s grip. Quickly, he brought the butt of the gun solidly down on the man’s skull, knocking him out. The body sliding fluidly out of his grip and he ducked down again and moved.

While the guards were moving to the sound of the man’s moans, Alec grabbed another guard and two solid punches to the face, the man was unconscious.

James knelt behind a crate where he had left the string of fireworks and the taper. Blowing gently on the taper again, he brought it back to life. He carefully lit the fuse and threw the string into the middle of the room.

“ALEC YOUR EYES!” James shouted just before the first firework exploded. The two remain guards were quickly blinded by the bright flashes. Alec and James moved quickly. Their eyes half lidded, they attacked. Alec brought down another guard with his knife as James place the pistol firmly to Moriarty’s head. The last guard took off running from the building.

Alec found an oil lamp and lit it with the taper. The pale yellow light illuminating the room. Two unconscious men and four dead ones littered the floor as Moriarty stood still with James’ gun an inch from his temple.

“Mr. Bond, I see we meet again.”

“Lord Brooks,” James smiled back.

“Do not believe you have won anything.”

“They know about the meeting and blowing it up. I’m sure by now Sherlock and his doctor have stopped your bomber.”

“But there is more, Mr. Bond. So much more.”

“What Napoleon? Molly’s father won’t let him go. He wouldn’t release his prisoner for her.” Alec spit out.

“Oh I knew that. Colonel Wallace Hooper is just like any other pompous unimaginative British soldier. That’s why I didn’t ever waste my assassin’s time in sending him to Elba. He’s been here in London the whole time.”

James quickly looked over at Alec.

“Yes, Colonel Moran has a very special assignment tonight. If Lady Em and her family survived the explosion at Whitehall, he is to go to their home and kill them, kill them all. I believe that includes both your Quincy and Mr. Trevelyan’s Mary Margaret.”

Alec rushed forward and grabbed Moriarty’s shoulders. Shaking the smaller man Alec shouted.

“YOU BASTARD!”

“You should find a pretty mess when you get back to Mayfair, gentlemen.” He laughed as James pulled the trigger.

*****

Q did not wait for their carriage instead he dragged his mother and Molly through the streets of London back to their home in Mayfair. Guy Fawkes revelers shouted and sang as bonfires illuminated the night skies. They hurried through the crowds as best they could, being pushed and shoved, at one point a drunk man grabbing Lady Em and trying to dance with her down the street. The evening turning quickly into controlled riots.

An hour after leaving Whitehall, the three arrived at the front door of Holmes house. It was dark inside, Lady Em having given the servants the night off to enjoy the celebrations. Lady Em pulled the keys for the house from her handbag and Q opened the doors to the house. Entering, Lady Em and Molly collapsed on the settee in the foyer as Q went about lighting the candles and sconces. Soon the entry way was lit in a soft yellow light.

“Let me light the fire in the sitting room. It will warm you.” Q said opening the door to the room and stepping into the darkness. The candles casting light into the room as Lady Em followed her son and stepped to the liquor cabinet. She poured herself a sherry and quickly drank it down. Pouring another for herself then two more glasses, she turned to her youngest.

“Quincy, do you think your brothers are all right?”

Q looked up at his mother, the light from the fireplace covered her face. The once proud and strong countenance of Lady Mansfield Holmes was gone. The lines and creases of worry and age covered her face. Her hair was pure white. He had never seen her so fragile before. Never so weak.

“I don’t know, Mummy. I don’t know.” His own voice sounded so strange to him. Distant and foreign.

She stepped near the fire and handed him one of the sherries. He drank it quickly and set the glass down. Molly stepped into the room. Her cream colored breeches were smudged and dirty. The blue velvet coat was torn at the sleeve. Lady Em’s dress didn’t fare any better. The hem filthy from the muck in the streets, the skirt stained from the ale spilled on it by the crowds.

“Mycroft and Sherlock will be home when they are done. When they have secured the safety of the Prince and England.” Lady Em said moving about the room. “They will return to me. They always return to me.”

Q stood and went to his mother. He wrapped his arms around the old woman and pulled her to himself.

“Yes Mummy, they always will.”

The sound of breaking glass made Molly jump to her feet. “The rioters!” she whispered harshly.

“No they’ve never vandalized our home before.” Lady Em said pulling out of her son’s embrace.

Q moved to the door and saw a hand reach through the window and undo the latch. He quickly closed the doors and grabbed the candle. “Someone is breaking in. Lady Em, do you have guns in the house?”

“Your father study has his hunting rifles still.” She said and the two women moved to Q’s side.

The young man moved swiftly through the room, up to a panel in the wall. Pushing down on the chair rail and the servant’s passage opened; the three stepped inside the hidden hallway. They moved silently between the walls, pausing occasionally to listen. They did not hear the intruder nearing them so they kept moving forward till they came to another door. Q blew out the candle then slowly opened the door.

The door for the servant’s passage into the master’s study was built into the bookcase and looked like any other set of shelves housing volumes and tomes. Q looked around the door and into the study. Just as he did, a man carrying a lantern passed by the open door of the room. Q quickly pulled his head back in and softly pulled the door closed. The three people stood in complete darkness. None saying a word. Q listened for the boots to recede down the hall away from the study. When he couldn’t hear them anymore he opened the door again and looked. The room was empty and dark.

Q dashed out of his hiding place and went to his father’s gun cabinet. He silently opened the glass doors and grabbed a musket and two pistols. He grabbed a horn and several lead balls. Then just as quickly as he dashed out of the passage way he rushed back in. Closing the door, just as he heard the footsteps return. He leaned on the door, holding his breath as he listened. The boots entered the room, moving around the furniture. Q heard the boots pause on the far side of the room near his father’s gun cabinet.

There was the sound of the front door being kicked open and the boots running away from the room. Q sighed heavily, sagging against the wall. He opened the door again and stepped into the room and went to the door. Closing it, he locked the heavy oak doors, then lit the candles on the table. Lady Em and Molly stepped out of the passageway and over to Q. He set the pistols on the table and quickly loaded the musket.

“Quincy when did you learn to do that?”

“Lady Em, I’ve been a pirate for the last two years.” He whispered back to her. He handed the musket to Molly then started to load the two pistols. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“Your father taught me.” She said taking the loaded pistol. Molly shook her head no.

“All right Molly you stay behind us in the passage. Please do not shoot me, Lady Em.” He pushed the pistol under his belt and picked up the candle and moved back to the servant’s passage. Moving quickly, the three moved through the house back to the front sitting room. Just before they reached the room, Alec called out for Molly. She gasped and pushed forward, rushing into the room.

As the door swung open, Molly saw the man standing in the shadows, pistol raise. Q pushed Molly forward, pulling her down to the floor with him as the man fired. Lady Em immediately returned fire, as the man moved from the shadows and into the light.

Molly saw the face of Sebastian Moran glaring down at her as she laid on the floor under Q. She screamed as Moran pulled another pistol from his belt. He smiled as he lifted the gun and pointed it at them. The solid thud of the knife could be heard over the singing and chanting in the streets. Moran lifted the gun over his head and fired, before collapsing to his knees and falling forward. Alec’s knife sticking out of his back.

Alec and James stood in the hall behind the dead Moran. Molly scrambled out from under Q and rushed into Alec’s arms. James moved into the room walking pass Q and to the fallen body of Lady Em. He gently picked her up and cradled her in his arms. Q crawled over to his mother, looking down at her side that was quickly darkening as the blood soaked her dress.

“I never was very good with a gun. Your father wasn’t a good teacher.” She said looking up at her son. Then her eyes turned to James. “I suppose it’s too late to make a run for it.”

“I’m game if you are?” He said holding her close.

A sad smile graced her lips and she looked at her son again, then turning to James she said. “I was right about one thing. I was right about you being good for my son. He’s turned into quite a remarkable young man, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, mum.”

Her bright blue eyes closed. Q called out but his mother did not hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcomed and enjoyed.


	33. Parting Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter. The epilogue will be longer.

Parting Ways

There was cold mist coming up the river, swirling around the wooden markers in the deserted grave yard. Potter’s Field was on the south side of the river across from the Tower. The gray stone walls of the ancient fortress disappearing into the fog as it moved into London. Sherlock Holmes remained at a respectful distance from the graves. Standing just inside the tree line, he watched his friend stood over the open grave. Two graves side by side. The plain wooden coffin was lowered into one on ropes. The filled grave had the name Sebastian Moran on the wooden cross. The open grave at John Watson’s feet was marked Mary Morstan.

The grounds men threw the first shovels of dirt in over the pine box. The sound of the gravel hitting the wood was loud amongst the silent graves. John stood very still watching the dark brown soil cover the pale white wood. As the fourth shovel full was thrown in, John slowly opened his hand. The red velvet box with Mary’s ring was crushed in his grip. He gently tossed the box into the grave, the small thing landing on the mound of dirt already present on top of her coffin. John pulled his shoulders back and stood military straight as he watched the dirt cover his lover and deceiver. His face stern and set, refusing to show any emotion as the grave filled.

The next day another funeral was held. This one was as far from Mary’s as one could be. Lady Mansfield Holmes was being heralded as a national hero. Her family having saved the monarchy. The dark oak coffin was carried on a gun carriage being marched through London from Kensington Palace to St. Paul’s Cathedral. White and red roses covered her coffin. Her three sons walked behind the gun carriage. Dressed in black morning suits, their thin long bodies exaggerated. Behind them James, Alec, Molly and John Watson. Behind them a detachment of Royal Marines marched in respect to the woman who ruled the navy behind the curtain.

The Royal Naval Tattoo led the procession. People watched as the coffin was pulled through the city. As they reached St Paul’s, the Prince Regent and Queen Charlotte were there to greet them. Someone from the crowd shouted _‘God save the king!’_ , but no one joined in with the cheer, no one made a sound.

The requiem was drawn out. Mycroft, Sherlock and Quincy sat listening to the Psalms and hymns, seeming unaware of their surroundings. When the First Admiral of the Navy stood to give the eulogy, Quincy quickly grabbed his brothers’ hands. Both men turned to look at their younger sibling sitting between them. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the three men reached out and hugged each other. Ignoring the whispers and gasps from the onlookers, they held on to each other for several minutes. Then let go of each other. Quincy looked up into his brothers’ faces and nodded. Together they turned and returned their attention to flustered admiral.

Later that evening, after the last of the guest had left Mycroft’s home, the seven people sat in the formal drawing room. The servants had finally removed the last of the food and china, as the head butler brought in a tray of coffee and brandies.

Mycroft sat in the wing chair nearest the fire, as Alec and Molly sat side by side on the settee. Q was in the chair opposite his brother, with James leaning against the back of it, his hand resting on Q’s shoulder. Sherlock and John stood off to the side in the shadows of the room, but near enough to hear the conversations.

“I’ve been considering the events of the past several months.” Mycroft said looking down into his snifter contemplatively. “I find that the actions of Moriarty and his associates require us to reevaluate our intelligence gathering.”

“Explain.” James said conversationally.

“Lady Em and I knew months ago that someone from the admiralty had ordered Miss. Hooper to be returned to England, but was unable to determine who or why. Well, obviously it was Brooks who had ordered her return but that was lost in the bureaucracy of the Navy, but why, we didn’t know. It never occurred to Lady Em nor myself that Miss. Hooper’s father was the primary target. Then the attempt to blow up Whitehall that took time and planning. The moving of the barrels of gunpowder, the shipment of supplies, the manipulation of authority. All of these things should have been observed and record. We need people doing that.”

“What spy on ourselves?” Sherlock asked.

“Not spy per say, just beware of the activities of those domestic and abroad who seek to harm England. Some kind of intelligence gathering organization.”

“What a Ministry of Intelligence? Are you going to call it MI?” Q joked.

“MI, ah . . . no I don’t think so. It doesn’t sound complete. And two separate groups are needed. As I said one for domestic and one for foreign. Gentlemen your assistance in this endeavor would be appreciated. You know how I appall legwork.”

“You want us to stay and start this Ministry of Intelligence for you?” Q asked.

James’ eyes flashed over to Alec’s and their conversation was quick and concise. Both men started to laugh.

“Molly and I will be leaving soon. I am tired of being on dry land and wish to take my bride to sea with me.” Alec said squeezing Molly’s hand. Her eyes grew big as she turned and looked over at the tall Russian.

“Well are you at least going to ask her.” Molly said.

“Why should I when she already knows I am hers to do with as she wants.” He smiled back at her. Molly threw her arms around the man and kissed him in front of everyone.

Mycroft coughed at the display and leaned to look around the corner of his chair to see Sherlock. “Brother dear, you and your homeless network would be perfect for the domestic office.”

“I’m afraid not, I have rented a cottage in Cornwall. John and I will be convalescing there for several months. I will not be able to assist you. Neither of us will.”

A small smile slipped to John’s lips. Sherlock let the knuckles of his hand lightly stroke across the back of John’s hand as the two men stood close together. John shifted his weight, bringing his shoulder closer to Sherlock’s. Then subtly he slipped his pinky finger to wrap around Sherlock’s. There in Mycroft’s home in front of his family, Sherlock Holmes finally, yet covertly, held hands with John Watson.

“Well then Quincy, it must be up to you and your Captain Bond to establish my intelligence agency.”

“No Mycroft. James and I will also be leaving. Together.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.”

James squeezed Q’s shoulder lightly. A smile graced his face. They had done it. Q had come home. Reconciled with his family. Buried the pain of the past, forgave and was forgiven. The sword that had been hanging over James’ head, the fear of losing his Q was now gone. Q was his. The young man would not leave him. Not be taken away again. Everything James wanted, everything he needed was in the man sitting in front of him. The world could come to an end but James and his Q would still be happy together. It was all he could hope for, it was all that he had prayed for. Just himself and his beautiful sprite Q. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcomed and enjoyed.


	34. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter. Just so you know what happens to our six friends.

Epilogue

Molly and Alec

Molly stood beside Alec on the deck watching. The flames from the ship in the distance were burning brightly in the black night. The crew of Xenia sailed slowing away from the sinking Electra. Alec’s arm wrapped possessively around Molly’s shoulders as they watched. Suddenly, a bright white flash, and Renard’s ship exploded. Shards of wood and metal cast out from the destruction as men were thrown dozens of feet in the air. Crashing lifeless into the black waters.

“The fire reached the magazine.” Jack Wade, the gunner’s mate, said standing near the captain and his wife.

Molly turned into Alec’s chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He pulled her tighter to his chest.

“It’s over now Molly, they’re all dead. Moran, Moriarty, and Renard. Everyone who tried to take my little kitten away from me. They are all dead now.” He leaned over and kiss the top of her head, her long brown hair covering his arm.

Several months later, Molly and Alec were alone in their cabin. It was late and the ship was quiet. The occasional groan of the timbers as the wind pulled at the sails. Molly and Alec laid naked in the bunk. Molly’s head resting on Alec’s thigh as the man was twisted around and laying his head on her stomach. Her fingers combing through his wild blond hair. His eyes closed as he concentrated, listening.

“I think I hear her.” His eyes flew open. “I think I hear a heartbeat.”

“Her. What if it’s a boy?” Molly asked laughing softly.

“No, our first child will be a girl, for you. Someone who will let you brush their hair and have tea parties with.”

“Tea parties? On a pirate ship? I can see Wade and the boys jump at the chance of having a tea party.” She laughed harder.

“A little girl who I can dote on. Let her wrap me around her little finger like her mother has.” Alec moved up the bed to kiss his wife. Pulling her over and arrangeing her with her head on his chest. “Then after that, we will have boys. Lots and lots of boys.” Molly slapped his side. He squeezed her and laughed. “We will need to sail to see James and Q soon.”

“Why?”

“Our child will be born on land, not in the hull of a pirate ship. They will take care of us.”

“The little one and I will be fine if I give birth at sea.”

“No, I will not let that happen. There will be a real doctor there. And you will be safe. I will not have you in jeopardy again. You are too precious to me.”

She leaned in and kissed his chest.

“So how many boys?”

“Enough to man a pirate ship.”

Sherlock and John

The small cottage near the town of Fowey was built high up on the cliffs looking out over the sea. The water churned violently on the dark gray rocks below as the wind swept up from the south and blew across the land. It really was the wrong time of year to be in Cornwall, but Sherlock wanted to get John away for London as quickly as possible.

Daily Sherlock watched as the ex-soldier would go for walks along the cliff edge. The wind tearing at his clothes and reddening his face. Sherlock shadowing the man at a distance; carefully watching to make sure no harm would come to him. John was in turmoil. John had loved Mary, but was the cause of Mary’s death. He knew he had to shoot her to save Sherlock’s life, but he still had not come to grips with taking the woman’s life. John’s limp had returned and the tremor was very obvious.

Sherlock and John had switched roles. Sherlock was now the one to fix meals and to tend to the daily running of the small cottage as John took the role of thinker and loner. He took daily strolls and nightly sat up in the main room staring into the fireplace. Thinking, replaying the events of the last few months. Trying to understand how everything had gotten so messed up.

Sherlock did not push John about their relationship or mentioned anything they had said to one another while on the Skyfall. Sherlock held tight to the memory of kissing John and the taste of man’s skin as Sherlock’s tongue ran down his neck that day in sickbay. The dark haired man feared it would be the only memory he would have of his love.

Late one evening as the wind was blowing a gale up from the south and sea spray was reaching the top of the cliffs and wetting the windows. John and Sherlock sat in opposite chairs watching the peat fire burn. Silent and thoughtful.

“You know I know you’re there.” John said softly.

Sherlock looked up quickly and focused on John. For once, he was behind the subtle conversation. “I’m afraid I’m at a loss as to what you mean.”

“I know you’ve been following me when I go for walks. I know you have been keeping to the bushes to hide yourself from me.” John stared into the fire, not acknowledging the other man in the room.

“I didn’t wish any harm to come to you. I was there for your safety.”

John huffed. Finally tuning and looking directly at Sherlock, his pupils were wide and dark. His skin had the ruddy glow of time spent outside.

“If I was interested in safety, I wouldn’t have joined the army, I wouldn’t have become a combat surgeon. I bloody well, wouldn’t have started chasing you around London would I?”

“No John.” Sherlock whispered.

“Sherlock, I don’t truly understand it all. But I know one thing. Mary wanted me to shoot her. She wanted me to shoot her for you.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow studying his friend.

“She said she had to make me hate her, when I asked her why. She said Moriarty force her to trick me, but she had to make me shoot her for you.”

“She said him.”

“She meant you, Sherlock. She knew I loved you. She knew even before me, that I was in love with you.” John said back. Sherlock closed his eyes and nodded his head. That was twice now that John had told him he was in love with Sherlock.

He had to know, regardless of John’s answer he had to know. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me?” Sherlock couldn’t breathe.

“Yes.”

Sherlock slipped out of the chair and was on his knees before John in less than a second. Looking up at the man through his black fringe, Sherlock’s hands slowly moved up John’s thighs. Sherlock leaned forward and pushed John’s legs apart.

“Do you really want this John?”

“Yes.” John brought his hands up and rested them on either side of Sherlock’s face. Gently pulling the man closer to him, John tip his head to the side and kissed Sherlock, tentively. Softly. Gentle. Sherlock wanted to cry for joy.

He pushed up into the kiss and licked at John’s lips. The soldier parted his lips and let Sherlock in. The two men caressed each other’s tongues and gently explored each other’s mouths. Sherlock’s hands moving up John’s body, feeling the heat roll off the man’s skin through his clothes. More than anything now, Sherlock wanted those clothes off and his hands on that skin.

John pulled back from the kiss and held Sherlock still in his hands, looking deeply into the other man’s eyes.

“I want to take this into the bedroom. Are you ready?”

“Oh God, yes.” Sherlock moaned out.

Sherlock rose to his feet and lit a taper. He led the way to the room he had been using feeling John’s hand resting on his shoulder as he followed. Sherlock lit the candle beside the bed and blew out the taper. Turning, he saw the hunger in the man behind him.

“Take your clothes off, I want to see you naked.” John said in a horse whisper. Sherlock’s fingers shook as he fumbled with the first button. He looked down and cursed trying to still his hands. Looking back up he noticed John was already removing his jacket and was slowly undoing the buttons on his waist coat. Sherlock mimicked his movements, concentrating on watching John to lead them through these first steps. They simultaneously removed their shirts and stood bare chested in the candlelight.

John stepped forward studying the naked man in front of him. The medical trained fingers tracing over the scars on the pale white skin. On Sherlock’s shoulder was the scar from the gunshot in Singapore. It mirrored a wound on John’s shoulder, but whereas John’s scar was more than a hand’s width, Sherlock’s was only an inch or two wide. He leaned up to kiss Sherlock with vigor. It was messy and mostly tongue and teeth.

“I want to taste every inch of you.” John said was he moved down Sherlock’s jaw and to his neck. Sherlock’s fingers rushed to the buttons of his fly. He struggled trying to pull the clothing apart. The sound of the torn button hitting the wooden floor was loud and startling. The tall man grabbed John’s uninjured shoulder to steady himself as he pulled his boots off, then kicking wildly, he stepped out of his breeches and undergarments.

He stood up straight as John was now kissing and licking at his shoulder. Sherlock took a deep breath trying to center himself.

“John” Sherlock breathed out. The shorter man stepped back and looked at the completely naked body of his lover. The long thin body standing in the candlelight. Ivory turning gold. The smooth lines of muscle under skin, the undulation of Sherlock’s ribs as took his breath. The hardening length lifting up from a nest of dark curls. John moved to partially fall and sit on the edge of the bed as he worked the buttons of his trousers. Sherlock moved with cat like grace up onto the bed as John kicked off his boots and his remaining clothing.

John turned and looked at Sherlock’s reclining form. Starting at his knee, John bent low and kissed, then moving up slowly his lips grazed over the man’s heated skin. Traveling up his thigh, over the sharp edge of his hip, across his abdomen, taking the pebbling flesh of Sherlock’s nipple into his mouth and biting lightly. The man underneath him groaning and arching up into the bite. John smiled and moved to Sherlock’s mouth.

“You know I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.” John whispered into Sherlock’s mouth.

“Neither of us do, but we will find a way together.”

John brought his palm up and held it over Sherlock’s mouth. “Let’s start with something I know. Lick it. Get it sloppy.”

Sherlock did as he was told. His tongue gliding across John’s palm, his spit thick across the skin. John pulled his hand away and moved to lay over Sherlock’s naked body. The two men lining up shoulders, chest, hips. John moved and ground into Sherlock as their heavy weeping cocks rubbed against each other. Sherlock groaned again. Then John took his palm wet with Sherlock’s spit and wrapped it around their hard lengths.

“Oh God, John, that feels so good. Tighter.” John complied and Sherlock arched again into the contact. His hips rocking slowly.

John knew he was too close. He knew this wouldn’t last long, but leaned over and took Sherlock’s ear lope between his teeth. Whispering, he said.

“Take me along. Let me see you come. Let me know how you will sound when I plunge into you later. Taking your tight hot hole tonight.”

“Oh fuck, John. Yes!” Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders and as he thrusted up into the man’s hand. “John I want you so much! I want to feel you in me!”

Both men were too close to the edge to last long. Coming mere seconds apart. Panting and groaning as hot cum covered John’s hand and Sherlock’s abdomen.

“John I love you!” Sherlock shouted. His body finally having the release it had wanted forever.

In the morning, Sherlock slipped from his bed and dressed in the main room of the cottage so as not to disturb the sleeping man in the bed. It had been a long night of touches and experiments. Revelations and declarations. Sherlock smiled as he felt the uncomfortable burn in his back side. Thinking of the sounds John had pulled from Sherlock’s throat during the night as the storm blew around the cottage actually made the man blush and his cock twitch in his breeches.

He started building a fire in the cook stove when he saw the men walking quickly up the path to the cottage. Holmes recognized the local vicar, Mr. Roundhay, practically running up the hill. He stepped out of the cottage to stop the men from waking John.

“Oh Mister Holmes. Thank God you are here. We need you.” The second man called out.

“Mr. Roundhay, and . . .”

“This is Mr. Mortimer Tregennis. There has been a tragedy Mr. Holmes. Last night Mr. Tregennis’ sister died and his two brother went insane from fear.”

“My brothers, Owen and George are . . . I found them this morning. They were sitting and singing merrily as my poor dead sister Brenda lay between them. A look of pure terror frozen on her face. Oh Mr. Holmes you must help us.” Tregennis shouted. The man was flushed and shaking with fear.

“I am afraid that is not possible. My good friend Dr. Watson is in need of rest. We are here for his convalescence. I cannot possible be involved in an investigation.” Holmes explained to the two men.

“Don’t you think you should ask the doctor first?” John Watson said from the narrow door of the cottage. He stood with his boots and breeches on and his shirt pulled over his head but untied.

“John, you need to rest.” Sherlock turned to see his friend standing there.

“I’ve never woken feeling better.” A smile covered John’s face. Sherlock smirked back at the man. “Sherlock may I speak to you privately.” The two visitors stepped back as Sherlock followed John into the small house. “Sherlock, why aren’t you taking this case?”

“You need your rest. You don’t want to be chasing after me.”

“Yes I do. Just as much as I want to do what we did last night again.” John whispered back. “Sherlock this is what you are. A detective. Now solve this case so we can come back here and I can enjoy making you scream my name again.”

Sherlock smiled devilishly and grabbed hold of John’s forearm, squeezing tight.

“Good, now let’s go solve the case of the dead sister and the insane brothers.” John leaned into Sherlock’s space.

James and Q

Q laid panting on the furs spread across the bed. Sweat made his pale skin shine in the firelight. His arm thrown over his face, with his fist clinched. James was pulling him back from the edge yet again. For the last twenty minutes, the man nestled between Q’s thighs, licked and sucked on his cock, while Q’s leg rested over his shoulder. Just as Q was about to fall into the blessed abyss, James would let his cock slip from James’ lips and he would gently massage Q’s balls, till the young man groaned in frustration. Cursing and swearing. James would lightly blow air across the weeping head of Q’s cock, cooling the heated skin and driving the young man to insanity with want.

This had been the third time in the last half hour James had stopped his ministrations, smiling wickedly at the plight of the young man beneath him.

“Oh fuck, James please, I’m begging you!”

“Yes you are and it sounds wonderful.”

“Please!”

James moved up and lifted Q’s hips slightly. He slicked his cock with the oil from the small bottle and slid slowly into his lover. Q arching his back as James pushed into him. Moaning loudly, he lifted his arms and reached above his head for the heavy wooden head board. James rocked slowly in and out of the young man’s channel relishing the sounds he was pulling from Q’s throat. The boy would be horse in the morning and the thought made James quicken the pace.

Q matched his thrusts and pushed back down to meet him. James’ hand reached down and took Q’s cock in to a tight grip. Accenting each thrust into the young man with a pull on the weeping member.

“You are gorgeous Q, so beautiful and all mine.” James’ voice was deep and harsh.

Q’s eyes flew open as his climax hit quickly. The muscles tightening as hot cum splashed across his body. James pumped into the man, feeling Q’s body try to milk him. His own climax was powerful, taking the breath from his body.

It had taken several weeks before he had completely regained the ability to have sex with his young sprite. But Bond’s body was now healed for the most part after his torture. He could obtain an erection and carry it to completion without pain now, but he still noticed the fear and anxiety in Q’s face every time they started to become intimate. He hoped after this night, he could convince the man he was alright. They would be alright.

James slowly and carefully pulled himself out of Q’s body and collapsed beside the man on the thick furs. Both men panting and swimming with euphoria. James reached over and grabbed Q’s arm, pulling the young man to lay over his body. James wrapped the limp boy in his arms and lifted up to kiss his head.

“This will be our home now.” He said with husky voice. He did not mean the hunter hut they now were living in, but the land of Skyfall in Scotland. James had brought Q to his home. The land of his father. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you where the hall stood before it was burned down. We will make plans. We will rebuild my ancestral home of Skyfall, and we will live out our lives here.”

“Lords of the manor?” Q laughed into James’ skin.

“Yes, whatever we want to be. The farmers will come back and the land will be productive again. It will be ours and no one will take it from us again. Days spent riding and hunting and being the lords, nights spent in each other’s arms.”

Q sighed, then leaned up onto his elbows, looking down into James’ remarkable blue eyes. “How long? How long will it take to rebuild the hall?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a year. Maybe longer. But does it really matter? We have all the money we need. We have the land back.”

“And we have each other.” Q said smiling down at his love. “We have all the time in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The investigation that Sherlock and John start off on is the Adventure of the Devil's Foot.
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos. I realize that the fan base for this type of story and AU is small but you are the greatest. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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